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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993912">Coming of Age</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anouk1988/pseuds/Anouk1988'>Anouk1988</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) &amp; Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anne's feelings are getting there, Bash just loves to tease Gil, Coming of Age, F/M, Gil is too patient, Growing feelings, Slow Burn, seasons 2 and 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>70,281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anouk1988/pseuds/Anouk1988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He still remembered his words. It was late afternoon, and he was able to sit and hold a conversation more than the previous days. He was treasuring the moment, doing his best to remember everything, trying to learn as much as he could from this man that was just slipping away from him. Too soon. He had been telling him about Anne, because he asked, telling him how he knew she was his girl. It was incredible how an impending death stripped you of embarrassment and self-consciousness. He listened carefully. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, he finally spoke.</p><p>"You might think a teenage romance is what you want, son. Because you're a teenager now and you just want instant gratification. But if your heart is anything like mine, you already have the answers for your life. Don't ruin it by going too fast. Cultivate the next few years so that when your reap, you both are grown, mature and steady. So you go into this adventure with full conscience. Wait until she's sixteen, at least, give her space to grow and become her own and not an appendix to you".</p><p>So he was giving her space, even when he knew Anne was never going to be an appendix for anyone and hadn't intended to come back for a few years at least.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe &amp; Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Mary Lacroix &amp; Sebastian "Bash" Lacroix, Mary Lacroix/Sebastian ''Bash'' Lacroix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>289</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a very canon story, at least up until a point, told from Gilbert's point of view, starting just when he comes back to Avonlea with Bash. He tries to make sense of everything, makes sense of his vocation and his place in the world and tries desperately to give space to Anne for her to grow and mature, so they can have a solid relationship in the future. She, of course, knows nothing of this and just goes about life, being the Anne we all love.</p><p>The original work clearly is not mine. Through this, however, there will be times when actual lines from the show will appear. When a line (or anything else) from the show appears, then it's from there. All their credit: they are the geniuses, I'm just frustrated for the lack of season 4. This goes for all the other chapters as well.</p><p>This was originally posted on fanfiction net, and it's here by suggestion of a reader. I'm new in this platform, so any suggestion is welcome :) I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Introduction</strong>
</p><p>Bash had thought it strange that the first thing Blythe had wanted to do when they arrived in the early morning to Avonlea, was to go to school. "Relax a little! You just came from around the globe, have a nap first," he had told him. Blythe had shrugged, smiling with that absent-minded smile of his as he saw the snow outside. It was freezing. Quite literally.</p><p>"Just make yourself at home," he told him, patting him on the shoulder and leaving him in his new room. His room. His very own, for the first time. And then Blythe was gone, leaving him in that frozen house in the middle of the still winter air.</p><p>He spent the day taking drapes off the furniture, uncovering one by one the pieces of his friend's childhood and learning a bit more about him with each one. He made a fire on the stove and cooked some stew, leaving it ready for when he arrived. He tried to warm himself and failed, and ended wrapping himself in a quilt he found in his room. How did these people manage to live, let alone work outside in this weather? he asked himself as he settled with a book from the Blythe library.</p><p>"This is good, man," said his friend as he ate the stew with a good chunk of bread. They were finally having dinner and he felt more settled in, ready for this new life. It was going to be good. It was going to be warm. He was going to be happy. He chuckled. It helped that he now had a real sweater and the house was slightly warmer than in the morning.</p><p>"Of course it's good. It has my mommas spices" he answered. The kept eating in silence for a moment.</p><p>"She has short hair, now."</p><p>Bash looked at him as understanding dawned on him. Then he gave a big, hearty laugh. Not making fun of him, but happy for him. Of course, Blythe had wanted to go to school first thing in the morning of his first day in Avonlea after god knows how many months.</p><p>"Pretty?" he asked, teasing him the same he had done since he received his first letter, back in Trinidad.</p><p>"It's... it's not like that" Blythe answered at the end, the ears a bit red, his half-smile on. Bash laughed again. He knew. And his friend knew he knew. Time was the only thing the boy needed.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Winter</strong>
</p><p>After a couple of weeks, Bash already felt more adjusted, to Gilbert's great relief. He wanted him to be able to live life fully with him in Avonlea. He wanted Bash to work for his own future, to grow, to be able to achieve his dreams. And maybe, while he did all that, to be beside him as he figured life. He had come to consider him his brother. Someone would think he did it lightly, now that he had no one in the world, but that was wrong. He was actually very selective as to who he held close to his heart.</p><p>Like most nights, they were seating in front of the fireplace. It was the warmest place of the house, after all. Bash was reading some books from his father's library on crop rotation, and he was trying to write an essay that was due next week, after the holidays. But he just couldn't concentrate, not after all the excitement from the Panto last night. He had tried working in the barn in the frozen weather to see if that way he was able to think of something else, to no avail. Now, he was bone-tired, every single muscle achy because of the cold and the physical effort, and still he could not take his mind off the memory of Anne stepping into a part he knew she hadn't prepared for. And doing it all the more perfectly.</p><p>She had been incredible, that she had. Full of life. Full of dramatism. Every bit of her into the character. From the other side of the stage, Bash had caught his sight on more than one occasion, smiling with his knowing smile. Gilbert had had the first-row view of the whole thing and had enjoyed it immensely.</p><p>It wasn't that he didn't know how he felt, how much he cared for her. He knew that already. She was closer to his heart than Bash even was. He knew she was <em>it</em> for him. God, he had even discussed it at length with his father on his last days. He had only written to her that he might not come back because he was really trying to be far from her, to give her space. Measuring the words, keeping space, containing the sentences so the letter was short and friendly, and… short. He couldn't speak his heart yet.</p><p>He still tried to give her space and would keep trying unless he saw there was something in her that told him she at least could see him for who he was now. Maybe the dictionary had been a good idea. It was an innocent gift. She had looked so surprised, almost a blush in her cheeks. He wanted her to beat him fair and square. Not just in the classroom, but in life. That much was true. But she was still shy of fifteen and he had vowed to his father he would not make any move unless she was already sixteen. Already of age. He repented up until his last days on going after Marilla too soon and ruining it.</p><p>He still remembered his words. It was late afternoon, and he was able to sit and hold a conversation more than the previous days. He was treasuring the moment, doing his best to remember everything, trying to learn as much as he could from this man that was just slipping away from him. Too soon. He had been telling him about Anne, because he asked, telling him how he knew she was his girl. It was incredible how an impending death stripped you of embarrassment and self-consciousness. He listened carefully. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, he finally spoke.</p><p>
  <em>You might think a teenage romance is what you want, son. Because you're a teenager now and you just want instant gratification. But if your heart is anything like mine, you already have the answers for your life. Don't ruin it by going too fast. Cultivate the next few years so that when your reap, you both are grown, mature and steady. So you go into this adventure with full conscience. Wait until she's sixteen, at least, give her space to grow and become her own and not an appendix to you.</em>
</p><p>So he was giving her space, even when he knew Anne was never going to be an appendix for anyone and hadn't intended to come back for a few years at least.</p><p>But in the end, Bash had convinced him: working in the depths of a ship made no sense at all for a scholar like him, and he could use working somewhere else. The family farm wouldn't go to waste. He could go study medicine in a few years when they saved enough and they knew how to take care properly of the farm. And he would get to see Anne again. His Anne with an E. Anne who had found herself in some sort of problem that had made her cut her braids (he really wanted to know the full story), and who managed to look as radiant as always with hair shorter than his. Even when she looked at him like he was a ghost, as she had done on the first day he came back to school. Never expecting him.</p><p>"Blythe, are you done writing your love letter?" Bash's voice out of nowhere brought him back to the present as nothing else could. "You've already made a mess of your paper and everything" Gilbert saw that, in effect, the ink had stained the lone paragraph he had written so far and he could no longer make out the words. What was the subject? "Well, I'm going to bed. You just do the same and have sweet dreams".</p><p>"You have sweet dreams," he answered jokingly.</p><hr/><p>Winter days started blending with the weeks. He helped Bash in the morning before leaving for his classes and together they tried to make sense of everything that surrounded them. Gilbert remembered some of what he had learnt from his father before he fell ill. He might have been three, four, five years younger than he was now, but he had managed to pick the basics. Or so he thought. And then his father had many (<em>many</em>) books on apples, orchards and other fruit-bearing trees. Bash managed the cold better once he started wearing some wool underpants that still caused Gilbert to make fun of him when he remembered. He managed to cramp some of his studies by night when Bash's chatter allowed him. He had loads to catch up to, but it wasn't his first time doing it: it had been the same after coming back from Alberta, and now he wasn't taking care of the farm and his dying father. Mr. Phillips might not help him, but he would manage.</p><p>He started measuring time by the growth of Anne's hair. It was as long as his when she went somewhere for a weekend with Diana and the shy guy, Cole, and returned as if from a life-changing experience. He had half-debated with himself going for a call at her house, just to see how she was doing but hadn't been so brave. Bash had made fun of him when he returned one day after walking almost to the edge of her property.</p><p>Then her hair was just shin-length, all nice and straight, but not long enough so she could do anything with it. It looked lovely when it moved as she walked. It was around that time that he had met with miss Cuthbert on the way to Charlottetown with Bash. She had truly been a blessing when she helped them get on the train. People were just so conceited and closed-minded!</p><p>When she took out the little package from Anne, flower and all, he noticed one more time the care she put into everything. Of course, she would pack something for Miss Cuthbert to take and remember her. They exchanged a couple of words on the redhead. He tried to praise her a much as he could without being improper and then looked at the landscape with the fear of having said a little too much. Bash would absolutely tease him for this. The senior woman had a knowing look on her face. But if he was honest, was there truly any harm in Miss Cuthbert knowing about his intentions? He pondered that for a few minutes as he chewed on the little raspberry tart that Anne had sent. It was delicious.</p><p>They made more small talk on the train, regarding their errands and how the farm was working out. Miss Cuthbert offered for them to come for lunch the next Sunday, sure that Mr. Cuthbert would be able to give them some good pointers and help in any way he could. They agreed immediately, utterly grateful for the proposition. Some guidance as to how to run the farm was a gift for him and Bash, who really felt a bit lost despite having been able to find a rhythm. He only needed Bash to feel better for that day, and he knew they were on the right track for this. Doctor Ward was extraordinary and he didn't hold any grudge against him. After all, there were no treatments for cancer. One thing more to study for.</p><p>And then they met Mary. They shared a room at her place. Gilbert wouldn't hear anything about having the bed: Bash was sick so he was to be more comfortable. It had been weeks since they had shared a room, and still, it felt like the most normal thing in the world, like they had always done it. He had so much in his mind at this moment he didn't even know if he was going to be able to sleep at all.</p><p>"I don't shy away from the truth like some fellows I know," said Bash, after he teased him about how he answered Mary when she had gone to give him the receipt for the night. He didn't even acknowledge his comment with anything more than a non-undistinguishable grump. He didn't shy away, he knew how he felt. It just was too soon.</p><p>"I don't think I'll sleep much," he finally said. "Too much has happened today". Between the lingering taste of the raspberry tart and the discussion of the apprenticeship with Dr. Ward, he was set for a sleepless night. Like so many others.</p><p>"I know exactly what you mean," answered Bash. Neither moved to turn off the light. They stayed in silence for a few minutes, each lost in his thoughts. "I feel at home," Bash added, in a very low voice. Almost as if he was talking to himself.</p><p>"Here in Canada? Or here at Mary's?"</p><p>"Here. Don't get me wrong. Your place is the nicest place I've ever stayed at, but Mary… She's everything I looked for. I could just feel it when I entered the laundry. All determined, strong-minded, no-nonsense, but kind. And beautiful."</p><p>Gilbert stayed in silence for a moment. He really wished Bash would feel at home at the farm. It was his family's place and he was his family now. But he could not keep him away from Mary if anything came to be. Just as much as he wouldn't want anyone to be in between him and Anne when the time came. He wondered for a few minutes before answering him.</p><p>"You know… The house is big enough for a couple more of us," he said, as quietly as they had been speaking for the last minutes. Bash made one of the little happy noises only him knew how to do.</p><p>"You serious, Blythe? You can't take that back"</p><p>"Dead serious, but only if you're serious about this. Don't make choices without thinking. And make an honest woman out of her," he said. How he wished he could one day have Anne at the farm as well. Him, family doctor of Avonlea, researching in his home lab. Anne teaching or writing or doing whatever she wanted. Bash caring for the farm.</p><p>"As I told you, I don't shy away from the truth," answered Bash, looking at the raw wood ceiling. Then he stayed silent for a moment. "You're not shying away, aren't you?" As if he was connecting some mental dots. Gilbert closed his eyes. There was actually no way of denying this.</p><p>"I'm not. I'm just waiting," he said, after what felt like ages.</p><p>"Waiting for for…?" Bash asked, a moment later, when it was evident Gilbert wasn't adding anything else.</p><p>"For her to come of age."</p><p>"But you do care for her, then? All that talk of "this is not like this", "she's just a classmate"... You tricky tricky man, Blythe"</p><p>"I am really trying on concentrating on my studies and getting the farm running with you, so I just try and ignore all of this as much as I can for now."</p><p>"It's not like she goes after you," Bash bantered and Gilbert just furrowed.</p><p>"Believe, I do know that." He was acutely aware, actually, and it was almost painful at times the way she just ignored him. So contrary to Ruby. "I'm just waiting. When she's of age, I will try to talk more to her. I have no idea how I will manage without her breaking another slate on my head, but at least I will try."</p><p>"And in the boat? There was no point denying it then."</p><p>"I just really wanted to get away from everything. I didn't want to come back at first, remember?" he honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to have this conversation with Bash at that moment. But apparently, sidetracking the conversation was not going to work this time. He opened his eyes and saw that Bash was on his side, looking at him intently. He sat again against the nightstand. This night was certainly going to be very long.</p><hr/><p>"Well, here we are. Just don't keep staring at her like a fool and we should be alright," said Bash when they arrived at Green Gables next Sunday.</p><p>"I go to school with her. Every day. And I don't <em>stare</em>" Gilbert answered, taking the lead as if to demonstrate something. They had even brought some paper, eager as they were to learn from Mr. Cuthbert, who opened the door. They greeted him and he invited them to come in. Marilla was just finishing cooking, Anne by her side, humming something. She had two very little ponytails that day, half the hair already out of them.</p><p>"Hello, Anne, Miss Cuthbert" Bash greeted the ladies.</p><p>"Thank you for having us," said Gilbert, to all of them. He was just so thankful for Mr. Cuthbert's knowledge, Miss Cuthbert cooking and being able to see Anne without the other girls pressuring her. He never understood their dynamics, but Anne was always nicer away from school. Like on Christmas, when they had blown out the candles.</p><p>"It's with pleasure, don't worry, come along, now," said Mr. Cuthbert, directing them to the set table.</p><p>"Hi, Bash, Gilbert," said Anne with a radiant smile. She had flour on her cheek. Marilla smiled at them.</p><p>"Matthew, don't you want to go to the parlour? We'll still be a moment before we serve lunch and you can get started on the boys' questions. I'm sure they'll have plenty. Please, Gilbert, Bash, call me Marilla. Your father was a dear friend and you can count on us as your family" Anne looked at Marilla, wide-eyed. Bash, all charisma as usual, gratefully accepted. Gilbert blushed a little and chuckled at Anne's reaction. Family indeed.</p><p>"Thank you, Marilla," he said, before following the other two to the parlour.</p><p>The afternoon went very, very quickly. Matthew poured his knowledge in succinct sentences. He took them to the barn and showed them the use of some of the tools that neither Bash nor Gilbert had been able to decipher. He showed them everything. Told them stories. As shy as he was, he was kind like no other. Anne spent the afternoon reading on the couch and then catching up with some homework. Gilbert looked at her from time to time. When they finally were finished with al the farm business, and Matthew insisted they come again for anything they needed, Marilla invited them for tea.</p><p>"Anne's learning to bake so we have a surplus of biscuits"- he looked pointedly at her and she just returned the look, terrorized. As if learning how to bake was something shameful.</p><p>"I'm sure everything is delicious," Gilbert said, smiling at her. She rolled her eyes. What was it with her, really? They seated around the table, conversation diverging from farm care and more into their travels.</p><p>"Oh, we made a stew with the curry you gave us," Anne told Bash. "It was the most divine meal, so fragrant. Wasn't it, Matthew?"</p><p>"It was tasty alright," he answered.</p><p>"I'm glad you liked it. One day I'll teach you how to make crab callaloo," Anne's eyes were full of expression and wonder as always, asking about the dish. Gilbert concentrated on his pie slice and listened to the conversation, enjoying the moment with all his might. He yearned for moments like this one and tried to soak every second in.</p><hr/><p>All too soon it was Prissy Andrews' wedding with horrid Mr. Phillips- a relationship he hadn't been able to understand. Her hair was just above her shoulders then. The venue was lovely, the little church on the hill where his father's service had been, and it was full of flowers. How much they must have cost at this point in the winter, he could not even imagine.</p><p>He was watching Anne, who was across the aisle with Marilla and Matthew. She looked lovely on that dress, the same she wore on Christmas and the one she wore very often for church. It honestly did contrast very nicely with her eyes and her hair. Oh, how he wished time would speed just a little bit. How he wished she would talk to him like she did with everyone else. And that she would consider having her wedding here, in this same church, with him. In a few years, yes. But in the future.</p><p>And then she had looked to him and smiled. He was pretty sure it was just because she was so enthralled with the whole romance of the atmosphere, but it was still nice. He had had more smiles from her in this past couple of months than in all the time before he went away. They had called on a t-r-u-c-e, so maybe it was that? But then she had looked away, smile erased from her face, sight firmly in an abstract point. It was just so frustrating sometimes.</p><p>The rest of the wedding had not been like anyone could have ever imagined, but that was something else. When he went home to tell Bash about all the misfortune, he was seating near the stove, doing some numbers.</p><p>"So, how was she?"</p><p>"Oh, she looked lovely in her wedding gown. A bit pompous, but you've seen how the Andrews are. I just can't believe that she went running off. The rest of the girls went just after her."</p><p>"I meant Anne," Bash had said. Gilbert stayed silent, remembering her smile just before all the celebration of the day had gone askew. And then remembered seeing her, a few hundred meters away, playing in the snow with Prissy, Diana and Ruby. Careless. Free. Expressing herself just how she was. If he had thought of her before the ceremony as lovely, then he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. "Blythe? Still here?"</p><p>"She looked good, she was just in the same dress she wore for Christmas. Remember the blue one?" he asked. "But hey, you know it's not like that with her."</p><p>"I know you're waiting, but you don't have to tell me any more lies," said Bash, giving him a knowing look.</p><p>"Well, ready to do some work outside? Weather's nice today, there's hardly any wind. As I'm not in the wedding party, I thought we could just get ahead of our work so we don't have a hard day tomorrow?" He knew he was changing the subject, but for all, he loved Bash he didn't want to go into this subject again. It had been hard enough last time, at Mary's place.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spring was nearing. March arrived with the horrible mud that brought the melting snow. Anne's hair was now held in tiny braids that never hold the whole day, so she kept rearranging them during lunch hours. They were expecting the new teacher any time now, all excitement for someone to actually take the time to guide them on their vocations. They were full of hope.</p><p>Miss Stacy had arrived, not wearing a corset and causing much turmoil when she instructed for the desks to be put aside. Oh, he already liked her style. No one apathetic towards teaching would give that instruction. Maybe she would tutor him so he could catch up to his studies?</p><p>When doing the introduction round, he didn't understand what took over Anne. She usually wasn't the gossipy type. She always knew what to say. Words were her thing! How could she not come up with two to describe her? He really didn't understand what she was doing. But then he watched the eagerness in her eyes. Ah. Of course, she would like Miss Stacy, all unconventional, all happy. It was her perfect role model.</p><p>At the end of the day, he went to speak with the teacher before anyone else could gain her attention. He knew Bash needed him at the farm and this shouldn't take too long. That fence was a nasty bit of business. Everyone scrambled away, anyway. It was just Miss Stacy, Anne and him.</p><p>Oh, Anne, if you would just stop embarrassing yourself! Gilbert thought when she interrupted Miss Stacy again. But, accelerating his studies, was it feasible? He knew he was way behind. He was about at the same grade as Anne, who was a bit more than two years his junior. So he did have a lot of catching up.</p><p>"I'll do whatever it takes!" Pre-med next year? Was it even possible? He couldn't stop smiling after that. A couple more words with Miss Stacy and he turned and looked at Anne, still smiling. "Can you believe it, Anne?" he told her, mentally, of course. He could hug her in his way to retrieve his things. Pre-med! Next year!</p><hr/><p>Bash hadn't been as excited as he had imagined. Things didn't end very well and they both went to sleep without saying a word. Gibert was just too excited for school next morning, Bash was stressed about the fence they hadn't been able to finish. But what was a fence compared to pre-med studies? To accelerating his studies and becoming what he had wished for? "But leaving next year was never the plan," Bash told him the next morning, as Gilbert looked around for his things to school. He was distracted.</p><p>"You didn't even consult me, I thought we were in this together," Bash said finally exasperated, just when he was about to head outside.</p><p>"We are" he sentenced. They were in this together. He was his family, after all. He just needed to go after his dream. Was it so hard to understand? The conversation (discussion, if he was being truthful) carried on a bit more before he finally went out the door. "I have to go!", he said.</p><p>But then he couldn't stop thinking on his way to school about Bash's words. It was true that they had spoken (many times) with Matthew. Saturday lunch was starting to become a staple in the week with Marilla's continuous invitations. But taking notes wasn't the same as doing and it wasn't as if Matthew would tag along and fo the work at their farm. And it was true what Bash said: almost no one wanted to do anything with him. Because they were just that conceited.</p><p>He arrived before Miss Stacy and looked around the classroom with all the desks pushed apart. It looked bigger. Spacious. And it was still a tiny bit warm with last night's embers. Or not as cold as outside, anyway. He put more wood to the embers and pushed them around, blowing to turn the heat up. That was how Miss Stacy found him. After discussing where he was, he started right away with the study plan and almost didn't notice Marilla coming with Anne and talking with Miss Stacy.</p><p>"Do whatever you want" he answered when she went to taunt him out of the blue. In truth, he was not in the mood for Anne's weird mood swings today. He was still thinking about Bash and while the assignment Miss Stacy had given him looked positively interesting, he just couldn't concentrate. Put simply, it wasn't a good day, something that was confirmed after Moody put an electrified cable, of all things, in his mouth just as the un-progressive mothers came into the classroom.</p><p>He felt something was wrong. He couldn't shake that feeling off. And now he knew he shouldn't have talked back to Anne that way. Could this day get any worse?</p><p>It turned out it could, and it had. He knew something was wrong when he arrived home later that afternoon. He had gone to the beach and managed to catch a crab, thinking of it as a peace offering for Bash. He was sure they could think of something that worked for both of them. More than anything, he dearly wanted him to feel at home like he had in Charlottetown in Mary's place. For now, though, crab callaloo, a little taste of home.</p><p>That's what he was thinking, at least until he saw the note on the mantelpiece.</p><p>
  <em>Hey Blythe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sorry I couldn't stay and say goodbye. I'm going to The Bog and look for Mary. I think I can find a good future with her and some job. A community, a place to come home. I'll stay in touch. Keep up with your plans.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bash.</em>
</p><p>It felt like a bucket of icy water thrown over him. He had left? Had it truly come to that? He sat, still stunned. He didn't know how long he sat there, but when he moved it was with achy muscles. It was already dark. The stove was cold, of course, as was the house where the fire hadn't been tended to since the morning. He got up and turned it on, putting some soup to warm.</p><p>He went through the motions, alone in the house for the first time since the death of his father. The oppressive feeling of solitude had been one of the things that had made him leave, and he could remember it now. How could he be so stupid? Of course, Bash felt like an outsider! Of course, he wanted someone other than him and the Cuthberts to like him! Of course, he wanted to be able to work! How could he give him that, so he could come back? Or could he manage on his own?</p><p>The next morning, he got up after a sleepless night and went at sunrise to fix the damn fence. He yelled in frustration when he wasn't able to do anything. Bash had asked him for his help and he had gone to school, to accelerate his studies. He laughed at his misery and the irony of the situation. He decided to think about it on his way to school. Well, he had to do everything by himself. At least for now. How he missed his dad!</p><p>School was horrible for a second day on a row but was cut short after Cole appeared out of the blue with the sole motive to hit Billy Andrews. What for, he had no idea. But being Cole, he was pretty sure the blonde guy genuinely deserved it. It was just an unfortunate turn of events when he hit his ear against the furnace. Diana ran for ice, as he instructed her, and he tried to calm Billy. He saw Anne, who had arrived teary-eyed to school (was the day horrible for everyone?), run after Cole.</p><p>And then he decided to go to the family graveyard. He hadn't gone since he had arrived, even when it was just outside his house. He didn't know why to go, what to expect. But today he just felt so hollow, so desperate, that he could not think of anyone else but his father. And this was the closest thing he had of him.</p><p>"I wish you were here" has the first thing that came out of him, after silent tears had been pouring for a while. He just felt like he was falling apart and, without his father, he truly had no one in the world. "How am I supposed to do all this by myself?" he asked to the air, tears in his eyes, looking at the graves of his ancestors. Owners of the land. The farm had been in his family for generations, after all. Ever since the first ones arrived from England.</p><p>And then it hit him. The farm.</p><p>Maybe he could add Bash to the deed? Give him something so he could honestly and without any doubt belong? He could bring Mary, he had already told him so. But this way, this way he could actually prove to him that they were equals. Partners. And he would stop the nonsense of accelerating his studies and would stick to the plan they had crafted together between ports of call. He would graduate when the time was right, in a year and a half. With Anne. And everything would work out just fine.</p><p>He ran into the house, looking for the papers he had seen only once when his father had sat him down and explained everything to him. Then, to the lawyer. It took almost a bit too much time (he was concerned about the train schedule) but he managed to add Bash as his equal partner, only needing his signature to finalize the deal. And then he ran and got up on the train, satisfied with his morning, for the first time in days. He managed to arrive with minutes to spare to the station, the train hadn't even arrived.</p><p>When he sat in his seat with a sight- he hoped tonight he would be able to sleep- he looked out the window, towards the rear of the train. And then he saw her. Anne? Was his mind playing him tricks or… was she literally hopping into the freight car? He pulled up his window, securing it despite the cold, and watched them go up, one by one. She was followed by Diana and Ruby. And then… Cole and Moody? What were they up to? Well, this trip was becoming more interesting.</p><p>He got up before the train even stopped and was outside as soon as he was allowed to. He walked towards the freight compartment he thought they would be in and waited. What were they thinking? He was smiling when they opened the door</p><p>"What are you doing here?" Anne dared to ask him as if he was the one going out of the freight. He managed to walk with her, ignoring Ruby, and learnt about their plan. If all went well, he would be there to be a part of it. And he would apologize to Bash, Anne was right. It couldn't hurt his case anyway.</p><hr/><p>As horrible as the week had started, everything fell into place. Bash marrying Mary, both of them moving to Avonlea with him. Bash accepting his stake at the farm. He even managed to catch up with the group, that had somehow managed to get tickets for their return. Anne was flushed with excitement, carrying a big box of lightbulbs. He took it from her and went up to find a place while she went to hurry Cole.</p><p>"Anne, everything's all right?" he asked, alarmed when she climbed up crying and went straight to the window. Diana looked worried as well. The train started moving and Cole remained on the platform. She stayed there and then looked around her. She could sit beside Ruby or him. He was still looking at her full of worry. What had happened with Cole? Where they involved? Was she ok? She went to the seat beside him, across the aisle from Diana.</p><p>"He's not coming back. Aunt Jo offered him guidance and support" she told all of them, tears still coming down. "I'm really happy because he will be free to truly be himself. But I will still miss my dear friend Cole. Argh, why can't this week improve?!" she said finally. None of them said anything.</p><p>Gilbert just kept holding the box with both hands, he didn't want to let go of it and risk his hand comforting Anne and thus pushing her away because of his impropriety. Or have an extreme reaction with her weird mood swings. Then again, she had hugged him after his father had died. He went for lunch at her place every other Saturday (it was a recurrent invitation from Marilla and Matthew) and she was very civil those days. It couldn't be that bad, could it?</p><p>So he put the box on the vacant seat in front of him, and put an arm around her shoulder, holding her tightly and making soothing sounds. Diana looked at him like she realized something. He absolutely didn't care at that moment. And he decided to ignore Ruby's look, as well. She didn't look for long, as Diana engaged her in conversation as Anne burrowed her face into his chest. He ran his other hand up and down her arm, hoping to calm her down. At some point, she fell asleep and remained so for the rest of the journey. He managed to sleep some as well. He could relate to the feeling of having a horrible week.</p><p>When he went back home that night after the City Hall meeting, he felt better than he had in a very long time. Bash was coming on Saturday, as he was staying in Charlottetown just to organize things with Mary. Miss Stacy was staying, and she didn't look disappointed in the least for him not accelerating his studies. Anne had not hated him for the day and looked much calmer and happier after she woke she hadn't slept either? And his coat still smelled of her.</p><hr/><p>Her birthday came and went. He left a little something on her desk that day, before she came. She had looked so pleased it had warmed his heart. Diana had tried to see the note, but she had just put it under her things before the other girls noticed it. It was a very innocent note, really, but it still pleased him to no end to see its reception. Diana had looked directly at him and he made as if he didn't notice.</p><p>They crossed sights just before Miss Stacy began her class and he gave her a small nod and smile, as she beamed at him. Then he felt ready to burst with joy. Only one year left, then she would be sixteen. Then he would try. He would be able to wait. He had done it for the past two years. Talking with her these days, these weeks… he wanted to believe he was laying a solid foundation.</p><hr/><p>The last week before Mary and Bash's wedding had been a little chaotic. They were taking the buggy to Charlottetown to pick up what the couple had decided to keep from Mary's old house. It had been a joyous trip, full of anticipation.</p><p>Gilbert sang all the way and for once, Bash accompanied him. He even taught him some Trinidadian songs. No one was going to give them latrine duty now and the weather was sweet and warm. The trees were full of blossoms and seemed to make an arch over the road. The sun was shining over the water at Barry's Pond.</p><p>"Weather was just like this when I came back from Alberta with my father, two years ago," he told Bash at some point. "I couldn't honestly appreciate it then because I was just so frustrated with everything. I enjoyed immensely travelling with dad, you know? He always had a story to tell, an experience to share. Those days I tried to soak everything up, ask him all the questions, as I knew time was just slipping"</p><p>"How long were you away for?" Asked Bash. It wasn't usual for Gilbert to be so forthcoming with information about the time with his father. Bash had only heard comments here and there and it seemed that he had been an incredible person.</p><p>"Well, the plan was to be away for a year. He wanted to go to Vancouver as well, you see? Wanted to go all the way up to Whistler. But then we stayed in Alberta for a bit, as he was feeling unwell and was enjoying the mountains in the winter. We have to go there sometime. You can't even imagine the lakes, they're as blue as the sky and everything looks just as if it was painted. When he told me it was time to come back before we even talked about continuing to British Columbia I knew it was doomed. We were away six, seven months. The trip started just at the end of summer when harvest finished"</p><p>"It sounds like it was good for you, spending time with him. Hard, though" said Bash. Gilbert didn't say anything. It had been hard, but at the time, he didn't think much about it. He just did what had to be done. "Maybe we could go one day. To the mountains and British Columbia. I only ever travelled around the Atlantic."</p><p>"Well, we'll go. The train ride is fantastic"</p><p>"How was it, coming back?"</p><p>"You know… it was weird. I tried to tend to him as well as I could, with Mrs. Kincannon who went to take care of dad while I was at school. So I was just running back and forth from the school to the house, doing what farm work I could so it wouldn't go to waste. Then of course I was way behind in school because I hadn't done any formal studies for months. I was just good at writing and spelling for all that I read to my father in the afternoons and during the trip. So I also stayed up late trying to catch up. And then there was Anne, who arrived at Avonlea while I was away. I think she hadn't been very long by the time I went back to school but I have real no idea. I remember telling my dad about her and how I just couldn't leave her alone"</p><p>"Sounds hard"</p><p>"Oh well, it didn't seem to last too long. Just until the winter. After all that I was just ready to leave. I felt so trapped. But let's talk about something happier, eh?"</p><p>Bash didn't object and started talking about all the food they were having at the wedding. It was a mix of Trinidadian and Jamaican food, highlighting both Mary's and his heritage. Gilbert listened intently (he did love the food from the islands) but his mind still wandered to those first days after his arrival. He was just so tired of everything and hadn't even wanted to go to school in the first place, but had obliged because of his father. And he did have a passion for learning, he just didn't want to spend time away from him.</p><p>But then he had met Anne in the forest, first scared like a cornered rabbit and then all fierce and passionate. He had tried talking to her in many ways because it was just evident that she didn't talk to him not because she didn't want to, but because she seemed to think she wasn't allowed to. And he so wanted to get to know her. He tried giving her an apple during lunchtime. Then he made the mistake of calling her carrots, and while he tried to mend it there was nothing to be done. He was pretty sure that after more than two years she still held that grudge. She was stubborn like that.</p><p>"Blythe, you here?" Asked Bash out of nowhere.</p><p>"Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts"</p><hr/><p>Gilbert and Anne sat together during Mary and Bash's ceremony and he still felt her warmth on his left side, where their arms had been against one another. He had played with his hand to keep them occupied as he heard the sermon. She had a lovely blue ribbon framing her face and two little above the shoulder braids. They stood at the entrance of the church, waiting for a moment before going to the lunch Mary and her friends had organized.</p><p>Oh, but the look they shared there. It was like she knew. And then she had told him that she wasn't going to be the prat she had in the past few months but try and get along better with him, at least until he went early to medical school? He must have been dreaming. And she wanted to be a teacher, eh? She would be stellar, he just knew it. Like Miss Stacy, but even better. Then he had been able to tell her that he would be around, he wouldn't cut his schooling short. And she almost looked happy about it. Could he believe it? Not yet. He could not. The lunch after the wedding was full of laughter, great food and music. It was a fairly small gathering (nothing like what Prissy's wedding would have been if it had indeed taken place) but all the more joyous.</p><p>He sat with the Cuthberts and enjoyed talking with Matthew about the farm and with Marilla about his father. He had never told him much about his school days like it was something he had wanted to bury. At least until he had started talking to him about Anne and then he went all with the "you just wait until she's of age" thing. Anne was talking animatedly with everyone and went as far as trying to dance with Mary and her friends. He considered asking her for a dance but refrained himself. He just sat with his cider and looked as she enjoyed the dance with the other ladies.</p><p>"You do know she has a soft spot for you, don't you, Gilbert?" Marilla asked quietly after a while. They had been in silence for a while and he was absorbed in his thoughts, looking at her intently, with longing, and evidently without thinking he had her parents beside him.</p><p>"Oh, I don't know Marilla" he answered after a while, a little defeated. Because he honestly did not know. It was like every single day she changed her mind about him. From today, when she told him she was going to make an effort, to other days when she was cold and distant and just shy of hateful.</p><p>"Oh, but I do" she answered. "She's a fierce, passionate little thing. Every day she's teaching me something new. But I have managed to get to know her in these past years. For all she may be a bit cold sometimes, it's just because she cares so much. I think it might just be in the cases where she's afraid she's going to be let down." Gilbert stayed silent, still contemplating her, but feeling hurt in the heart. Afraid? That he might let her go? One of the things that were clear for him in life was that if he managed to get her to be with him, he would never let her go. Marilla continued after a moment of silence, where they heard the music and laughter of the party. "It couldn't be easy, growing up as she did. God only knows what she has seen or lived. It pains me so much when I think about it."</p><p>"Absolutely. She was at an orphanage, right?" He said. He had never really stopped to think about her life before Avonlea. But it just made sense. Of course, if she had gone to live with the Cuthberts when she was thirteen, she must have lived somewhere else before that.</p><p>"Yes. She was also in service for several years. Taking care of kids not much younger than her, dealing with adults… she's never said much and I try not to pry because if she's not bringing it forward there must be a reason" Gilbert closed his eyes in pain. How…? What…? The things he had seen in his year of travelling, the hard and horrible ones he wanted to forget, where maybe what she had lived day after day for years? What could he say to Marilla? "I'm going to look for a drink, I'll see you in a bit".</p><hr/><p>At school, it was just as if they never saw each other out of class. Like he didn't go with Bash for Saturday lunches and just as if they hadn't been together to the wedding over the weekend. He rarely tried to engage her in any conversation, unless it was her who started it. Ruby still sent him looks intently, and sometimes he thought that Anne's reticence to speak with him was linked with Ruby's stupid obsession. But, really, now that he thought of it, who was he to judge Ruby?</p><p>Classes were more interesting and challenging by the day. Miss Stacy was a very capable teacher, managing to get everyone interested at least to some degree. He managed, with some hard work, to catch up to Anne's level and then decided it was enough. He still had a year before going to college and, if he was being honest, he wanted to enjoy the time he had left with his family before leaving Avonlea. And he was at Anne's level, which comforted him and gave him a challenge all the same.</p><p>That day, Moody was practicing on his banjo, something that seemed to go with the general joy they all felt. The other boys were scattered on the ground, talking. He was lying on the grass, his cap over his eyes to cover some of the sun's bright rays, not participating much in the conversation. The girls were inside, as usual, having lunch together and talking about who knows what.</p><p>The end of the year was very close and some of his classmates were about to finish school for good. Billy was one of them. And it honestly cheered Gilbert that he wasn't going to be around. He was tired of his attitude and he felt as if he couldn't let his guard down. Like today. Much as he wasn't participating, he was intently listening as they recalled a game of spin the bottle they must have done while he was travelling.</p><p>"I mean, of course, I would have done Diana," said Billy, all superior voice like he owned the world and the rights over everyone. "She's pretty. I like pretty girls. Pretty girls are good" he sentenced.</p><p>"Well, Anne's pretty as well and you were very adamant about not kissing her" answered Charlie. Gilbert had noticed over the past few weeks that he had a soft spot for her as well. But his comment caught Gilbert's attention. Something wasn't right.</p><p>"Anne's not pretty. She's trash. An orphan" he wasn't done saying that when Gilbert was already upright, looking at him murderously.</p><p>"Take that back, Billy. Now" he said to him.</p><p>"Woah Woah, take it easy, mate" answered the blond boy, taken aback by his reaction.</p><p>"Anne's not trash. And being an orphan doesn't make anyone less than the others. Take back what you said. Now" there must have been something in his look that transmitted how serious he was because Billy apologized very quickly (very insincerely, probably) and changed the subject. But Gilbert couldn't shake what the conversation implied for the rest of the day. What could these boys have told Anne that day? And then he remembered the conversation he had with Marilla at the wedding and something shrank inside him.</p><p>They were going out, at the end of the day's classes, when he saw Charlie picking up his things. If someone would tell him, it was probably him. He never meant any harm in anything and was just used to follow the lead. "Hey, Charlie," he said, to catch his attention. "Do you mind if I walk with you for a bit? There's something I wanted to ask you about the farm" he said, making an excuse. The girls passed him, Ruby trying to catch his eyes, Anne's looking exasperated about her attitude. He managed to catch Anne's eyes and gave her a slight smile and she made a small motion with her head. The walk with Charlie was easy. He liked to talk, was very easy going, and they had gotten along since they were kids. It was only when he went away with his father that they started drifting apart.</p><p>"So, what was that you wanted to ask me? About the farm? I think you're better off talking to father about it, I still don't know all the details"</p><p>"Don't worry. Just an excuse. I just wanted to know about the game you guys were talking about? During lunch?" Charlie looked at him. "Spin the bottle…"</p><p>"Oh, right. When you went mental on Billy when he did that nasty comment on Anne". Gilbert noded. "What do you want to know?"</p><p>"Well… I'm just a bit worried. About what he said. Did something happened?" Then Charlie told him about Billy's comments, the pressure they put Anne, how Billy, his sister and Josie were the harshest and they had all chorused to make Anne and Cole kiss. "It was dreadful, actually. She looked panicked. I don't know why. But then, just as she is, she went above and beyond and kissed Cole on the cheek, just to shut everyone up" Gilbert nodded again, very troubled. Panicked? What had Anne gone through so that kissing would make her panic? He changed the subject, not wanting to go any more into the conversation with Charlie, and they parted ways a bit after.</p><hr/><p>He was still deep in his thoughts when he arrived home and went directly to the barn to chop some wood for the stove. If he was being honest, he needed something to steam off. That's where Bash found him, a couple of hours later, much more wood than was needed chopping, and him tired and sweaty sitting on some logs, looking nowhere. Still frustrated and worried about everything.</p><p>"Everything alright, Blythe?" he asked, standing at the door. Gilbert looked at him, his shadow against the twilight of dusk. He just shook his head, unable to speak. Nothing was alright at this moment. Bash went and sat down beside him. "What happened?" How to start…? Bash waited in silence and they stayed there.</p><p>"I'm just…" he started but didn't knew how to say it. He tried again, "she must…" but it wasn't right, either. He put his head into his hands, shoulders on the knees, so frustrated. Bash put his hand on his back.</p><p>"Something with Anne?" his brother ventured. Gilbert nodded. How to explain…?</p><p>"I tried, as much as I could, to protect her from the other guys in class. Even from the other girls. At least until father died and I went away. I'm pretty sure she never noticed and that's fine" he said. He didn't want recognition. It wasn't that. "The way they speak to her… of her… It's just so demeaning, Bash. I can't stand it." he continued after a moment. Like he couldn't stand when someone wasn't fair with his friend just because of his skin colour. "But then I went away. For almost a year. God, I shouldn't have left before knowing she would be alright", he said. So, so frustrated. "I mean, I'm sure Diana kept an eye on her. Cole as well. But… Bash, Charlie told me she panicked when they were pressuring her to kiss Cole, her friend of all people, in a stupid game. Panicked. I mean, what could have hap-" his voice broke and Bash just hugged him, understanding, and Gilbert just couldn't hold it anymore.</p><p>He started crying for all the frustration he had. How helpless he felt. How powerless he was against her past. He could speak up for her (even if she probably could do so herself). He would keep doing it every day. But he couldn't protect her from her past. Not from the months when he was travelling, but from the long history she had and not even Marilla knew much about. When she was in service. In the orphanage. Because she would always put a strong smile and cheery front, even when it wasn't true. Or pushing people she cared about away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Summer</strong>
</p><p>Mary hadn't felt great the past few weeks and both Gilbert and Bash were a bit worried. As he was still going to Dr. Ward's every Saturday, Gilbert talked casually with him about Mary's symptoms. Bash had asked him to do so, even when Mary had dismissed everything saying she <em>was fine and drop it already</em>.</p><p>A bit unsure of what all the symptoms actually were, but worried for her as if she was her real sister, the young apprentice told the doctor how she seemed to have an aversion to most things they cooked, except maybe some dishes with ginger, and had a stomach bug she didn't seem to be able to get rid of. She was nauseous, got sick often and one day hadn't even left Bash to come inside because apparently, he was reeking of something horrible. She was tired most of the time. It was almost like the wedding was to fault.</p><p>The doctor laughed and told him it was probably nothing to worry about, but that if she was worried she could always come to him. Mary didn't seem worried in the least and had been very adamant about it. It was more about his and Bash's concerns about hers. Then a possibility hit him.</p><p>"Doctor, do you think… do you think she might be pregnant?" Gilbert asked him, as he continued to organize the previously sterilized instruments, trying to make as if he didn't care but excited and giddy on the inside. The doctor winked at him and Gilbert wasn't able to stop smiling for the rest of the day. Bash was going to be a father! He… could they consider him an uncle for their unborn child?</p><p>"I'm home!" he called later that afternoon as he opened the door and turned directly to the rack, to leave his bag and take off his hat. "I spoke to Dr. Ward…" he continued and then stopped short when he turned and took a look at the kitchen area. Anne was there, along with Mary, apparently baking and full of flour. "Oh, hi Anne. Didn't knew you'd come today" he greeted her with a smile. This was a great day, period. She looked surprised, almost as if he had caught her doing something wrong.</p><p>"Mary's teaching me to cook. I'm sorry" she said, quickly, excusing herself. She seemed to do that often when she was nervous. Stammer and be a bit at a loss of words when she usually was most expressive.</p><p>"What are you sorry for? It's great that she teaches you, I'm sure you're not a lost cause like I am" he answered, still smiling. She smiled a little, more at ease. Mary laughed and went to hug him. Gilbert decided to stay with them and went to seat at one of the chairs across the table where they were preparing everything. "What are you cooking today?"</p><p>"Cake. Mary's cake" Anne answered, putting some hair behind her ears that had escaped her braids. They were not as long as they once were, but now they lasted most of the day and brushed her shoulders when she turned her head. She had managed to put still more flour on her cheeks. Gilbert smiled sweetly.</p><p>"You were saying, about Dr. Ward…?" Mary asked, making Gilbert react. She was behind Anne and winked at him, a very knowing look. He flushed, of course. He was sure Bash had told her about… this whole mess. Anne made a weird expression. The moment was saved by Bash walking in. Thanks, Bash.</p><p>"Blythe! You're early!" he greeted, patting his shoulder.</p><p>"He was about to tell me what Dr. Ward said, Sebastian" Mary looked at him. Anne continued mixing, hurriedly, looking intently at the batter as if it was going to give her some answer. "Is there something to worry about or everything's good as I told you both like a million times?"</p><p>"Everything's perfect" Gilbert confirmed, smiling greatly. He wasn't sure about sharing the news (or what he thought they might be) with Anne present. It was their information, to be honest. "Nothing to worry about. He told me you just should eat lots of fresh veggies and fruits, many fluids if you feel seek, rest when you need to do so and go to him if you have any concerns"</p><p>"Which I don't" she answered, as matter-of-factly as ever. Gilbert smiled again and she looked at him and nodded, communicating silently with him. She knew she was with child. Oh, he was elated now... "As I've told you like a million times."</p><p>"Yup" he continued smiling. Bash was looking confused.</p><p>"Come, Anne. This cake's not going to bake itself. So, about the sugar" She brought her attention to the other girl as if deciding to ignore the two men in the room. He went with Bash outside to finish repairing some bushels for the coming harvest and they returned just when the girls were serving tea to accompany the freshly baked cake. It looked delicious. Anne served a slice in each dish making a happy, excited noise.</p><p>"I can't believe it looks so perfect!" she exclaimed. Bash nudged him and he looked sternly at him. <em>No teasing now, Bash. </em>"Should we take this outside? It's the most beautiful, perfect day" she added, looking through the window. It was sunny, but not too hot like other days and there was a fresh sea breeze that wasn't strong enough to be nodded and picked a tray to put the things on.</p><p>"You both go ahead, I prefer staying in for a bit. Sebastian, would you mind staying in? I wanted to talk with you about something" Mary said, smiling softly. Gilbert took the cue and put just Anne's and his dishes on the tray and grabbed it. Just the nicest day, he thought.</p><p>"After you, miss," he said to Anne, half mocking, half chivalrous. She smiled and held the door so he could go out. He put the tray on the stairs of the porch, as they hadn't mended the table and chairs yet, and sat beside Anne.</p><p>"It's delicious," Gilbert said after a couple of bites and she beamed at him. Then they ate in silence for a moment. Gilbert looked at her again. She still had the cheek full of flour. He left the dish on the step beside him and looked for his handkerchief. "You have flour in your face. May I?" he said, showing her the fabric. She blushed crimson (probably just like him) and nodded. He cleaned the flour softly and put the folded fabric beside him, grabbing his dish again. Hoping to look as if it was a completely normal thing for him to do. Probably failing miserably. "We can't let you go to Marilla's looking like that. She wouldn't allow you to come back and we wouldn't want that" he said, half joking. Looking at her. <em>Please, come often even if it's just to cook with Mary?</em> he thought.</p><p>"I think she's used to me being covered in all sorts of things," she said, breaking the spell and looking straight ahead. "But flour certainly it's among them. You know, when you were… away, one of the boarders was teaching me to bake, as well. Only it was pies and loaves of bread, never cakes" Anne added, before having one more bite.</p><p>"That's how you learnt to make the little raspberry tartlets?" he asked, remembering the one she had packed for Marilla. Anne looked at him, about to answer, when Bash came out the door, followed by a smiling Mary.</p><p>"I'm going to be a faaather!" he sang. "Can you believe it, Blythe? Bash the dad." Gilbert stood up and went to hug both of his friends, feeling just as happy as when he had realized in the morning that probably Mary's malaise was just a happy symptom. Anne stood up as well and went straight to hug them. "You're going to be uncle Blythe!" and he felt as happy as proud as ever in his life.</p><hr/><p>The rest of the summer was good and the fall seemed like it would be just as nice. They worked hard on the farm, taking care of the orchard and planting vegetables for the coming season. Their first harvest was plentiful and the apples ever so sweet, like they were thanking the hard work done since the winter and the spring. They filled as many bushels as they could, and the records of the farms indicated this was as good as any other year, despite their lack of experience.</p><p>To give thanks, they gave the Cuthberts a bushel for their cellar as well as many apple preserves, as they knew harvest wouldn't have been possible without them. Bash seemed as happy as Gilbert could remember ever seeing him, and they had an established dynamic around the house that worked for the unconventional family.</p><p>Mary was preserving as much as she could to stock up the depleted Blythe's family pantry. Her belly started growing out of nowhere after the news was shared and seemed to get bigger by the day. Anne came regularly for cooking classes with her and always stayed for tea, relaxing a bit more with each visit and no longer feeling like an intruder, which was evident in her relaxed demeanour. Lately, she visited with Marilla and occasionally with Mrs. Lynde, as between the four women they were sewing and knitting everything needed for the new arrival.</p><p>"Hello, ladies" Gilbert greeted them one Saturday afternoon as he arrived from his internship, just at the beginning of September. The school year would begin next Monday. The three of them (Mrs. Lynde wasn't in that day) lifted their sight from their works and greeted him. "How's the knitting going?" He asked, smiling.</p><p>"Well, considering I managed to finish a knitted sweater by myself, I would say splendid" Anne answered, showing him the tiny white garment. He walked towards her and grabbed it. So tiny. So nice. It wasn't perfect, he could tell, but he wouldn't be able to knit even a scarf and admired her work. "I finally graduated scarves, I should say" she added, very proud. He smiled.</p><p>"I don't know, Anne. Still much to learn." he teased her, winking at her.</p><p>"But really! My scarves look straight, now. Don't they, Marilla?" Anne looked at her mother for confirmation and received a small laugh.</p><p>"They do look better than when you started, but I think you still have some to learn. Remember everything improves with practice" she said kindly. Gilbert returned the little sweater, brushing her hand and feeling a jolt inside him.</p><p>"I know, I know… I should knit one, it will seem easy after all this increase, decrease points I had to do with this" she said. He had no idea what she meant by that, but he wasn't going to discuss it. Then she looked straight at him. "Do you want a not-so-straight scarf?" Gilbert blinked, surprised. Him? If it was knitted by her, of course! "I'll make you one. Just so Marilla sees I do want to practice and improve. I'm sure she would not allow me to own one more"</p><p>"Well, you have more scarves than dresses and that's just nonsensical" the older woman acquiesced. "But you can certainly knit one for Gilbert" he smiled softly.</p><p>"Thank you, it's very kind. I truly appreciate it. Do you ladies want something to drink? Perhaps some tea, lemonade?" he offered. He took their orders and went to the kitchen to prepare some supper for all of them, singing softly and happily along the way. A scarf! It was way too warm to need one right now, but for the coming winter, he would love it. He was just filling the kettle when Anne appeared at the doorway.</p><p>"I'm sorry if I was improper with my offering. Marilla was just telling me it might be taken in a wrong way" she said. Gilbert looked at her, furrowing He didn't care. If he honestly thought there was any way to take the whole situation in what Anne called "the wrong way", he would actually be ecstatic. But he knew there wasn't. She was knitting him a scarf and if it was improper of her to offer maybe it was improper of him to accept. Put simply, he didn't care.</p><p>"Well, I have no idea about the propriety of scarves," he said, finally, a bit taken aback. "I do know I would love to have one knitted by you" he added, continuing to prepare the tea. Anne went to retrieve the cups, smiling a bit. They worked together in silence for a couple of minutes. "You don't have to worry much about propriety in this house, Anne. First, I don't know much about it as my father simply did not care for it and what little I do know I've picked it here and there. Probably thanks to Ms. Lynde. And second, it's not like we're the Barrys or one of those high society folks. We're all family here. We want you to feel comfortable" he added, earnestly, after some minutes, turning to look at her in the eyes. His family was as unconventional as they went and he was proud of it. Her blue eyes shined as they watered a little. "Hey, everything's ok?" he asked, walking towards her. His intention had not been to upset her. She nodded.</p><p>"It's just… Sometimes I can't believe my life now" she said, looking at him. He noticed the fingers of her right hand holding her opposite forearm. Anne followed his gaze. "I sometimes have to pinch myself. I have a very good imagination, you know?" she said, very quietly.</p><p>Gilbert closed his eyes for a second, feeling that his heart was breaking again, thinking how bad could her past be that this was something she thought she might be imagining. He walked a couple more steps and hugged her, firmly, just thinking about making her feel safe. He <em>knew</em> this was improper: being alone with her and holding her like this, especially as they were getting older. He absolutely didn't care. She burrowed her face in his chest, just like that day months ago on the train. Her hands on her sides, now, as if unable to hug him back.</p><p>"You're safe here, Anne. You'll always be" he said, quietly. He felt his shirt wet a little bit as she cried. "Just- just know you can count on me for anything, Anne-girl. You can talk and I won't judge. We can just be silent. Whatever you want. Just know you're safe here" he added slowly, soothing her. It was something he had wanted to say for months, since the wedding, since he talked with Charlie about the unfortunate game of spin-the-bottle. Anne nodded without looking at him. They stayed like that, Gilbert just holding her, his strong arms firm around her, his cheek resting softly on top of her head until she was calmer. But neither seemed to want to move first. He knew he didn't want to. The kettle started to whistle and he gave her a chaste kiss on top of the head. They separated, slowly. Gilbert held her for a second by her arms, looking at her red eyes seriously. "I meant what I said, Anne. You can trust me." she nodded, trying to contain the snot and failing somewhat.</p><p>"I'm-I'm sorry" she stammered, turning redder. Gilbert took the kettle off the fire quickly, just so the thing would stop with the noise and looked quickly for his handkerchief. He gave it to her.</p><p>"You can keep it. And there's nothing to be sorry for" he said, looking at her again. She proceeds to clean her nose and then went to wash her face in the sink.</p><p>"Thanks. I really don't know what's got me today. I'm overly sensitive with everything". Gilbert shrugged, as he poured the water into the pot. He didn't mind. He was organizing everything on the tray to bring to the living room. They were about to go when Anne stopped him. "Thank you," she said, looking at him. And he knew this time it wasn't about the handkerchief. He nodded. "You'll have to tell me what colour you want your scarf" she added, changing the subject as they went to the parlour.</p><p>"I think blue would be lovely," he said.</p><p>They started pouring the tea. Marilla looked at Anne's red eyes with worry but she averted her gaze, so then she turned at Gilbert. He made an appeasing gesture and Marilla asked Mary if they had thought of any names, taking the focus off her daughter. They continued the conversation, soon joined by Bash, and talked for a while longer.</p><p>"Well, it's getting late," Marilla said. "I have some men to tend to at Green Gables and they must be getting hungry. Anne, you're coming or do you wish to stay?" she asked the red-haired girl as she got up.</p><p>"I would like to stay for a bit if that's alright, Marilla" she answered, asking for permission.</p><p>"Of course. Just don't stay out too late. And don't go through the woods if it's nighttime, you now I don't like it" she said.</p><p>"I can accompany her if you prefer, Marilla" Gilbert offered, getting up and accompanying her to the door before Anne could say anything.</p><p>"Thank you, Gilbert. I won't worry then about the hour. You're a true gentleman. So, we will see you tomorrow for lunch?" she asked the Lacroix and Gilbert. All nodded. "Goodbye then" Gilbert returned to the parlour, where Anne was talking with Mary. He decided not to interrupt and grabbed his book from the mantle to read for a bit. Bash was reading as well. He could get used to this.</p><hr/><p>"You're ready?" Gilbert asked Anne after she was done saying her goodbyes to the couple. She nodded and followed him. "So, walk, buggy or horse?" he asked. It was dark now, the night fresh and sweet, crickets the only sound outside. He didn't know if she had to be home by some hour, despite what Marilla had said. Time had flown and they hadn't noticed how dark it was outside, so engrossed were the four of them in a conversation about their trips and the islands and Anne's unlimited curiosity prompting more and more detailed descriptions.</p><p>"Walk? Unless you're in a hurry, of course" she said. He smiled. Never in a hurry if it meant spending time with her. He started walking and she went beside him, proper distance in place. They walked in silence for a while. Something was nagging him about the impending start of the school year. He truly didn't want to go back as they were before this summer. He enjoyed talking to her. And he didn't understand why she changed so much in the classroom.</p><p>"Anne, may I ask you something?" he said, finally. He looked at her as she nodded. "Is there any reason why you treat me differently at school?"</p><p>"What do you mean? I don't treat you differently" she answered quickly. He lifted an eyebrow. Seriously, Anne? She sighed. "It's the girls" she admitted, finally, after some minutes. Sight definitely on the floor.</p><p>"What about them?" he had suspected as much but had never had the trust and guts to ask until now. "Because I do notice you behave differently when they're around…"</p><p>"It's… I believe it's silly. But I don't want to cross them, not really. It's just hard to… Nevermind. The point is since I arrived at school, they told me I shouldn't speak to boys"</p><p>"But you speak to boys," Gilbert said. It didn't make any sense. He had seen her speaking to Charlie and Moody. And what about Cole?</p><p>"I know. I shouldn't speak to boys, in general, but especially not to you" she said, finally. He looked at her as if she was crazy. What? Why? "Ruby has dibs on you. Not that I could have any romantic interest in you, because, you know I don't, but…" she talked very hurriedly, turning so red it was evident even despite the dim lantern light. He decided to ignore her lack of romantic interest in him and her flushed face for now and ponder later on about it. But dibs?</p><p>"Dibs? What does that even mean?" he asked, confused. He hadn't heard the concept since he was in the small kids' classroom and he really couldn't understand how it could be applied to a person.</p><p>"Well… apparently, Ruby has had her eyes on you since I don't know what grade. So you're off-limits to the rest of the girls. And I'm not allowed to speak with you unless I want to lose them as friends and gain their hate"</p><p>"That's utterly stupid, Anne," he said, frankly and without thinking. Anne laughed a little, sounding a bit sad.</p><p>"I know. But Gilbert, I can't… They're my friends. I can't lose them. I don't want to have…" she stammered. He didn't force it. But they were friends, too. Weren't they?</p><p>"Hey, Anne. It's ok. I just wanted to know" she nodded, eyes shining with tears. She was right. She was overly sensitive today. Maybe he shouldn't have asked. "I'm sorry I asked," he added quietly, looking at her, stopping. They were probably in the middle of the woods.</p><p>"It's fine…" she said. "I mean, it's only fair. It must seem weird, now that I think of it" she said.</p><p>"Well, a bit. It is confusing. It's like we get along only for the weekends and compete Monday to Friday" he chuckled. He honestly didn't want to cause any trouble to the girl. "Because we do get along, don't we?" he looked at her almost imploringly, and she nodded "I won't talk to you at school if it makes things easier for you" he added, even if he didn't want to. She nodded and went to seat in a log.</p><p>"It's fine. I think Ruby's finally growing out of it, anyway? At least I hope so. It's so silly, I've never even seen you looking at her or the two of you carrying any sort of conversation."</p><p>"That would be a relief," he said, sitting beside her and putting the lantern in front of them. "And no. Don't take me wrong, she is a nice girl. Just not my type. Maybe it's unfair, but I really can't stand her puppy eyes sometimes, you now?" he admitted.</p><p>"I believe it's very romantic, in a way," she said, looking at the bit of sky that wasn't covered by the branches. "Unrequited love. It's very tragic" he sighed.</p><p>"Well, I do hope for some requited love at one point in life," he said, not daring to look at her even when he felt her eyes burning a hole in him, and concentrating hard on the little fire of the lantern. "But I also believe about waiting for the proper moment". Anne didn't say anything. He could feel the tension between them. Not a bad kind of tension, but like an electric one. He didn't add anything else for a moment, for fear of breaking the charm. It subsided slowly and at one point he felt like he could talk again. "You know, Anne. I was serious before" he said. "When we were in the kitchen" he clarified, before any connection with the conversation they were having just a minute earlier could be defined, but also after giving it time for the doubt to be planted. Cultivating. Like his father had advised. How he wanted to show her how much he loved her. She put her head on his shoulder.</p><p>"I know" she whispered. "It's just hard. There are many things I don't want to relieve, and speaking of them just brings them forward"</p><p>"Talking might help," he said, holding her shoulders with his strong arm. Everything was still aching from harvest. "Getting things out of your system. Giving them the right importance. Some perspective" she nodded, but still didn't say anything. "You know, there's nothing you could say that could make me go away, Anne-girl. I'm here for you. You just have to trust me. I want you to know I'm here to stay, now. You don't have to say anything tonight, or ever for that matter. Years ago I asked you if there were any dragons that you needed slaying. It might have sounded like a joke then, but know that I was and I am serious. These experiences that haunt you are the dragons of your life. Just know I'm not abandoning you, and neither are the Cuthberts, Diana or even Bash and Mary" he talked calmly, reassuringly, not wanting to push her but only to let her know that he was there and wouldn't go away. He was being as earnest as he could. The girl stayed silent and for some minutes neither did any move. "It worries me, the things you may have gone through and haven't processed yet" he admitted.</p><p>"There's just… I wouldn't know where to start" she finally said. "I don't want anyone else thinking I'm trash" she admitted a tiny voice. Like she wanted to talk about things but was afraid that saying anything could turn them away.</p><p>"No one who cares about you will think any less of you for the experiences you may have gone through" he reassured her. "I just wish they didn't happen so you would have peace inside. Charlie told me… about when all of you played spin the bottle" he prompted, trying to give her a starting point. "I haven't been able to take my mind off that for months. I wish I was there to shut Billy and Paul up. He told me you were scared" he whispered. He felt as she tensed. "I know they can be very insisting and that's disgusting. The game itself is not at all conducive, you should just wait for the right moment, with the right person. But why were you scared about kissing a friend?" Anne didn't answer for what seemed hours. Then she did so, with the tiniest voice he had heard of her. This was the first day he had ever seen her so fragile in all the time he had known her.</p><p>"The girls… at the orphanage. I used to hide in the cellar, to write stories and imagine I was in all sorts of places. At some point, they figured out where was my safe heaven" she said. "They would go up to tease me. At first, they just talked and laughed as they made fun. But they gained confidence with each time they found me" her voice was so quiet he had to make an effort to distinguish it from the noises in the forest. Gilbert was suddenly more scared than he cared to admit about what they could have done to Anne.</p><p>"Anne, what did they do?" he asked, finally, urgency in his voice.</p><p>"It... varied" she answered, unsure of what to say. "One time they trapped a mouse and hold it by the tail, bringing it to my face. They were holding me in place. He made this horrible squeaky noises, scared es much as I was" she said, slowly, every word quieter than the last, with a tiny voice. Gilbert held her more strongly. Only she would think about the scared mouse. "Other times, they… they just seemed to like to hold me and do me things. They talked. They…" she didn't seem to find the words. Gilbert couldn't hold it and kissed her hair for the second time that day. He wasn't sure he wanted to know any more, but also knew that getting it out of her system was best for her. "they licked me. Kissed me. Touched me. Bit me" Anne admitted at the end. "They told me I was worthless. Trash. That I would never be loved. That I was homely. Well, <em>that</em> I know I am" she finished. He held her strongly, rocking her. He wanted to kiss her there and then just to show her how mistaken they were, how mistaken she was.</p><p>"You're worth everything, Anne-girl. Every single bit of you. Don't believe them for a minute" he consoled, as she continued to cry. "You're not trash. Have never been. Will never be" he continued, feeling his eyes get wet as well. "One day, Anne, you will share real kisses with someone who loves you. You will feel that kind of love and you will be able to share it. You will know what a loving caress is and you will understand how beautiful you have always been" he said, holding her fast as she cried and unburdened herself, his voice and his heartbreaking at the same time. If it wasn't with him, it would be with someone else. But she would find love. She would enjoy every minute of it. He would make sure of it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Fall</strong>
</p><p>The school year was progressing more rapidly than they ever thought possible. Miss Stacy had started a study group for the ones that were applying for the entrance exams next fall and was leaving additional work repeatedly. They were starting with a school newspaper to develop more their writing skills and to do so with a real purpose. Anne, of course, was the editorial chief and he felt secretly proud of her.</p><p>Mary was adamant about hosting Thanksgiving that year. She argued she loved doing it at the Bog, missed terribly cooking for a lot of people and there were many things to be grateful for this year. Neither Gilbert nor Bash wanted to deny her of anything, so they invited the Cuthberts, the Lyndes and even the Barrys. The Lyndes had already been invited to spend the week with their eldest son and seemed honestly sad about missing the dinner party. The Barrys were much more succinct when they declined the invitation. Anne declared that she was going to bake the pies and Bash said he would cook the turkey with some of his spices.</p><p>That morning, Gilbert and Bash went to the vegetable garden to choose what looked better for the different dishes. As November was getting nearer Mary was finally on what seemed the last stretch of her pregnancy. She was starting to get uncomfortable with her belly (not as much as she would be one or two months from now), but what really nagged her was that she had been completely unable to get word of the good news to her son Elijah. Bash had even gone to the Bog a couple of times, as well as Gilbert, to look for him and invite him to visit. They both left word in different places.</p><p>"So, you're ready to be a father?" Gilbert asked him as he selected some Brussel sprouts. Bash laughed a little.</p><p>"More than ready, Blythe! Counting the days. That child will want for nothing" he declared. "I love him so much already. I started to put aside some funds, you know? I want that child to have a complete education, just like yourself"</p><p>"We all do. And we will make sure that happens, as well"</p><p>"I can't believe it. I wish for the baby to be a girl. A little perfect copy of her mother, running around being bossy but kind" he said, looking at the house where his wife was starting to prepare dinner. "Have you thought about having kids, Blythe? You should hurry, so they can grow with mini-Mary and be the real cousins they are going to be" Gilbert shook his head, feigning interest in the squashes. "Oooooh don't begin now, Mr. I-don't-ever-think-about-the-future Blythe" he teased, and Gilbert's ears became red.</p><p>"Why do you ask, then?" he countered, maybe a bit harshly. Discussing his nonexistent relationship with Anne was something that he found increasingly trying as she got older, wiser, more mature and just even more beautiful every single day. It was all he could do to not stare at her like an idiot when she read aloud in class or when she augmented one of her opinions in the debates Miss Stacy proposed every other day.</p><p>"Sorry Blythe, just being honest here" answered Bash, picking some peas.</p><p>"I know, I'm sorry. It's just… I see you and Mary and I just wish I was in that same place, you know?" he was frustrated with everything and cut the vegetables with more energy than what was needed. Bash took the knife from him and tossed it aside. Seating on a log, he made a gesture and Gilbert obliged, sitting beside him. He sighed. "It seems like I've known her forever, like I've loved her half my life and… I'm pretty sure that for her I'm just the annoying git that wins her at spelling and on whom she can trust some things. But she's never going to look at me as a partner, as a…"</p><p>"Just stop, Blythe, you're being nonsensical" Bash interrupted him. "That girl notices you more and more every day. Sometimes Mary just shows it to me, when she looks at you like she's trying to understand something"</p><p>"She never looks at me" Gilbert countered, irritated. Bash gave him a knowing look.</p><p>"Not when you're looking, doc. She has some sense, apparently. Everything will come with time, you've been saying that to me for months. You have waited so long that it's going to be ever more sweeter, when you're finally with her" Gilbert laughed sadly. He had imagined a thousand ways to try and catch her attention in the coming months, but had no idea how to court her, really. He had been pushing that out of his mind for so long that it didn't even seem like it could be a real possibility some months from now. "I know you. You're way more mature than you ought to be. And she's also mature, but just because she's had a hard life. Go easy, I'm pretty sure she's not thinking about marriage of kids like you are now. Remember she will be only sixteen, and not eighteen-going-on-thirty like you are"</p><p>"I won't even know where to start," he said, looking through the fields, towards the forest. Towards Green Gables. Where she was probably baking some pies right now.</p><p>"You'll figure it out. And you'll have us beside you every step of the way, in case you ever need to speak" with that and a pat on his shoulder, Bash got up and went to finish picking the squash Gilbert had mutilated, ending the conversation.</p><hr/><p>"This is the best smelling apple pie I've ever made and I'm pretty sure it's because we used your apples" was Anne's way of greeting with, the still-steaming pie on her hands, when he opened the door. "They are the most fragrant and sweet apples" she added, looking at him. Marilla was taking some things from the buggy, probably some coats for when they went back later that night.</p><p>"Right. I'm glad you liked them, Anne" he said, not knowing how else to answer. Suddenly he remembered his first day back to school, after travelling with his father "I told you they were very sweet, but you didn't want to try them" he looked at her on the eyes but changed the subject before she could say anything else "Come inside, now, it's cold out there. Marilla, Matthew, how great to see you!" he said, as the couple of siblings arrived at the door.</p><p>"Hello, Gilbert. You look good. Thank you for having us" said Marilla, as kind as she always was. Gilbert smiled. He had actually put on his best shirt that night and was glad someone appreciated it after Bash teasing. "Anne, put that pie on a table before you throw it on the floor" Gilbert smiled a little but diverted the attention when he saw Anne was embarrassed by the comment.</p><p>"It's with pleasure. May I offer you something to drink? Mary and Bash are finishing something in the kitchen, I'll call them right back" he said as he received their coats. Soon everyone was settled in the living room, Bash talking easily with Matthew about harvest and new crops, Anne curled up in her favourite couch as she talked with Mary about something. Marilla was on a chair near the fireplace, and Gilbert sat beside her after giving everyone a drink.</p><p>"The turkey must be about done. I have no idea how they cooked it, but the house has smelt amazing the whole day" he said to the older woman. She smiled.</p><p>"I did notice when we entered. It's not a smell I'm used to, but it does smell good. And Anne has taught me about trying new things, so I'm very excited" Marilla smiled and Gilbert did as well. He knew he had no credit for any of it, but felt proud of the girl nonetheless. "Every day you look more like your father, both in character and in appearance. You have become a fine young man, Gilbert"</p><p>"Oh, thank you, Marilla. I do try to remember him constantly so I can have his guide. Sometimes, I feel his still among us" he answered. She nodded a bit. "I still miss him dearly, to be honest" Gilbert added, after a moment. Having them all over was something he loved, as he really did consider all of them his family. But he still longed for one of the chairs to be occupied by his father, telling stories about the sea and the country where he had travelled so much. He sighed, looking at how Anne laughed with joy at something Mary was telling her. Marilla was looking at her as well.</p><p>"Did you ever told him about her?" she asked, quietly. Gilbert turned to see her, surprised. "I know your look, Gilbert. I've seen it before" she explained. He sighed. What was the point in lying? What was more, she didn't look scandalized, judgemental and sounded as kind as Marilla Cuthbert ever was. He knew he could trust her.</p><p>"Yes. Since the day I met her at school" he said, as quietly as her. She nodded and Gilbert looked at the redhead again, longingly. "He made me promise that I would wait until she was of age, before trying anything" he added, even when Marilla hadn't urged him to say anything else. She nodded.</p><p>"That is wise. Just know, you have our full support, as long as she is happy" Marilla put a hand on his knee, and he looked at her. A knot in his throat. He nodded, as he couldn't seem to say anything, and Marilla smiled warmly. "I trust you enough so I don't think she needs a chaperone to be with you, and know you won't do something improper to tarnish her image" he felt his ears get hot and knew they were red.</p><p>But she was right: that he thought of many things he had never done before, but dreamt of doing with her, didn't mean he <em>was</em> going to do them at the first opportunity. What he thought of in the wee hours of the morning he would never try to attempt. At least not without marrying her first as he fully intended to do. What was more: he knew as well as his name was Gilbert Blythe that whatever happened in his house would never get to the ears of the rest of town, even if it was something as innocent as the hug they shared on the kitchen some months ago. There was a mutual accord, between him and the Lacroix, that their house was a place to be open and at peace, without worry for societal expectations such as propriety.</p><p>Looking at it like that, if she ever happened to be as interested in him as he was in her, they were lucky to have such close families and to be able to explore their feelings without strict and unhealthy social protocols such as being chaperoned the whole time. They would be able to talk, maybe even share a first kiss on one glorious occasion, and do so unchaperoned. Gilbert held that in the highest regard, realizing that he was grateful for this, even if it never had crossed his mind before.</p><p>"Thank you, Marilla. You don't know how much this means to me" he said, looking sincerely at her. She nodded. "I won't let you down"</p><p>"I know you won't. You <em>are</em> John's son, after all, and I know you will respect her wishes and decisions" they stayed silent for a moment, the evident implication hanging in the air. It was very possible that she wouldn't want him in the same way he wanted her, and then there would be nothing that could be done. Anne looked at them, curious, and Gilbert blinked.</p><p>"I'm going to check on dinner," he said, getting up. Bash arrived a moment later and together they served everything on the table Mary had expressly decorated for the occasion. They called everyone to table and seated chatting happily. They ate gaily and shared the dishes, talking about every topic. At some point, Bash got up and called for a toast.</p><p>"I just wanted to thank you for your love and company. Without you, my time in Canada wouldn't be the same. I'm thankful for Mary, for allowing me to grow into a better person every day with her strength of character and love as my guide, and for sharing with me the foundation of a family rooted in love. I am also grateful for Blythe, here, for accepting me not only as his equal but as his brother. And I am also grateful for all of you Cuthberts for becoming my <em>de facto</em> extended family, I hope our ties and love will strengthen with the years. To the family."</p><p>"To the family" the others answered, moved. Gilbert felt sincerely shaken and was thankful they were ending dessert and he could slip away for a bit to get a breath of fresh air.</p><hr/><p>A bit later, like he so often did, Gilbert found himself on the stairs of the porch, sitting with his elbows in his kneed and his hands clasped together. In his house, this was the place he always chose to think, to pause. To have a cup of tea or to cry at three in the morning when nothing else seemed to work. The rest were inside. Matthew smoking his pipe as he contemplated the fireplace, enjoying a bit of silence and solitude. Bash and Mary showing Marilla and Anne everything they already had for the coming child. He had gone out, in need of some fresh air and space to think. The dinner had been fantastic, both in the quality of food as in the company and the conversation, but he needed a moment to collect himself. Especially after Bash's words.</p><p>Days like this made him miss his father terribly, and speaking of family and love only made the hole he felt inside feel more heavy and hard. Gilbert knew it would pass, like it always did, but wanted to be alone for a few moments and acknowledge the moment: he always fared better when he did so. He looked at the darkness in front, towards the area where he knew was the family cemetery, the only sound coming from the hoots from an owl in a tree and the breathing of the Cuthbert's horse. A knot in his throat, he felt his eyes water and didn't fight it, feeling the silent tears pool in his eyes and then stream down his cheek. One, two drops on the floor in front of him.</p><p>When he heard the door open, he assumed it was Bash, as it was always him who came to retrieve him at some point most nights. "I'll be right back inside, Bash," he said, without moving nor turning, noticing his voice must have sounded as strangled as he felt, for it hurt speaking.</p><p>"I'm not Bash," Anne told him, quietly, still on the door. Gilbert didn't answer. He absolutely didn't want her to look at him like this. Not now, when everything was going well and he just wanted to be strong for her. He thought she was going inside, but then heard some steps coming closer and felt something covering his shoulders. His coat. He didn't bother putting the sleeves and left it hanging from the shoulders, all the familiar red and black checkered fabric contrasting with his sharp white shirt. She sat beside him, her coat on as well. "Is everything alright?" she asked, looking at him, concern in her eyes. He nodded quickly but stayed silent. He didn't look at her, his sight firm straight ahead. He didn't feel like talking. Maybe she would leave if he didn't say anything. "You're crying, Gilbert, what happened?" he shook his head a bit. <em>Please, leave?</em></p><p>"Don't worry, Anne. Everything's ok" Gilbert said, way more calm than he felt, doing what he could to stop the tears from fallin. He could be strong so she didn't worry, right? She looked at him, a mix of worry and annoyance in her eyes.</p><p>"You told me it was best to talk about things to get them out, remember? It's not fair to say I should trust you if you can't trust me" she answered, looking at him pointedly. He sighed, sniffled, and chuckled sadly. That much was true. "It's been a splendid a splendid night. We have all enjoyed it immensely. The conversation was fluid, Mary even has been feeling well all the time. I don't understand, what has upset you?" she insisted. He cleaned his nose like a kid, with the back of his hand, as he really hadn't thought of needing a hankie tonight.</p><p>"I'm sorry" he excused himself. She would think him pathetic, now. "I just need a moment, Anne. I will be back inside in a few minutes" he insisted without looking yet at her, as the hole inside him insisted on growing, and he just wanted to be left alone. But Anne didn't move and he could no longer hold the tears. Gilbert felt her arms around him, holding him as he had held her before, and he sobbed and cried, no longer able to control himself but feeling safe enough to know that it didn't matter.</p><p>"I just miss him, you know?" he said when he finally felt calmer. "I miss his guidance, his knowledge… Sometimes I wish he were here, just to help me understand what to do"</p><p>"Gilbert, you suffered a terrible, terrible loss. What I told you in Charlottetown still holds: I was insensitive when I tried to console you at that time. But the sentiment is still true. Losing your father… it breaks your heart. Your soul. You will never be the same, and holding his memory true to your heart, honouring him every day, following the guidance he gave you… This way you can honour his memory. Savour every lesson he told you, cherish every moment you shared" she said, quietly. He nodded, sniffling again. She got up quickly, went inside and returned before he could even say anything.</p><p>"Here," she said, handing him a hanky, as she seated again. He chuckled but accepted and blew his nose as graciously as he could. Then he sighed, feeling Anne's hand going up and down the jacket he hadn't properly put on yet, trying to soothe him. He didn't say anything else for a moment, debating with himself if it was wise to unburden himself further.</p><p>"I love Bash dearly, as I do Mary, but I also feel…" he started, not sure of what to say, how to express the void he felt.</p><p>"Like you need your own family?" Anne tried to understand. And maybe this time, she being an orphan helped her understand more of the longing he had. At least he could see how she was really trying to comfort but was afraid of saying something wrong again. He nodded.</p><p>"I just wish I could have that. I wish my dad was here to scold me for making bad decisions, but more than anything I yearn for a family of my own. Even if Bash is my brother, and Mary my sister. I wish of a home with a heart-fire in it" he looked at her directly, with his teary and red eyes. "A cat, a dog. Children. Friends' footsteps. A wife" he ended, almost whispering, looking away. Anne nodded.</p><p>"Your love," she said, almost sadly. Gilbert nodded, sadly, looking ahead again. Fear of having said too much.</p><p>"I'm sorry I'm like this. The past holidays… it's been hard" he said. "Bash keeps joking, saying I'm about to turn thirty, and sometimes I do feel that" Anne chuckled. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, and then stretched a bit, feeling the coat fall from his shoulders. Anne looked at him.</p><p>"Feeling better?" she asked.</p><p>"Way better" he answered as he put properly his jacket. He smiled at her, feeling a little less burdened than before. He couldn't help saying cheekily "Just as I told you, talking helps" as he winked at her. They stayed there, just sitting in silence until Marilla and Matthew appeared on the door. They were leaving, as it was getting late.</p><hr/><p>The farm was finally running smoothly and they knew what they were doing, so everything seemed to be working fine. They were also very encouraged by the results they had had on the harvest, a confirmation they were right on track. The weather had been getting colder every week, Bash was starting to openly complain and said he had to search for the wool pants again. And Gilbert had already lost any hope for his new, Anne-made scarf when she arrived unannounced a Friday in the late afternoon. He was trying to write yet another essay, Bash and Mary gone for a walk, as it seemed to ease her hip pain.</p><p>"Hello, there" he greeted her on the door, half-smile in his mouth and a tiny movement of appreciation of his eyebrows. She smiled, flushed from the cold wind that had been blowing all day. They continued to speak little at school. But well. It seemed like they were used to ignoring each other Monday to Friday unless they were debating something in the context of a class and neither had done anything to change that.</p><p>"It's done!" she exclaimed, taking a package out of her basket. Wrapped in muslin and tied with some extra yarn and a couple of pine cones. He wondered what it was and smiled as he received it, remembering Marilla's little package. Going inside, he made a sign for her to follow him. It was dreadfully cold outside for early December. "I thought I could wait and give it to you for Christmas, but it's been cold lately and I thought… you might enjoy it?" Anne continued, excited, but slowing down when she realized he hadn't opened it yet and apparently had no idea of what she was talking about. He looked at her, realizing what she meant. "Or you can consider it a belated birthday present?" she smiled, unsure.</p><p>"You really knitted me a scarf?" he asked rhetorically as he very quickly unpacked the present. She had given him a card for his birthday and he had saved it in his nightstand. Inside the muslin, there was a long scarf, close-knitted, of the most beautiful blue-grey he had ever seen. "I love it, Anne, thank you!" he said, smiling like a kid and trying it on immediately. "How does it look?" he asked, beaming. She looked a bit taken aback, even with all the enthusiasm she had shown, and nodded.</p><p>"Good. You look good. I mean, it's a scarf. It's not tailored" she stammered. Gilbert smiled further. He loved it when she started to say things like that. It gave him hope.</p><p>"Do you want some tea? I was about to prepare some, I'm struggling a bit with the essay and just wanted to get away from it for a bit. I don't know if you're in a hurry, though" he asked as he went to the stove to put the kettle on and tend to the fire. The table had his many notes scattered around.</p><p>"Thank you. I can stay, Marilla knows I'm here and my chores are finished" Annes answered distractedly as she looked at the papers. "I'm pretty sure she has a soft spot for you, she is never this flexible when I visit Diana. Here, she just tells me not to walk when it's dark by myself"</p><p>"I actually believe it's thanks to my father," he said, even when he knew better. He took the scarf off, as it was warm inside, and folded it neatly, putting it on the table. "But since I enjoy walking you back when it's dark, I think it works for everyone".</p><p>"Don't look at it with much detail. What Marilla said in September is still true, I'm learning. I just get too impatient sometimes and it shows in the tension of the points" she said when she saw him folding it, changing the subject.</p><p>"I don't mind. I'm just happy I have a new scarf knitted by you" he said. She nodded and kept reading her notes. "Did you finished that?" he asked, interested.</p><p>"I have a draft, but I'm still not happy with it" she answered. "Had I known you were going to invite me for tea and study I would've brought it"</p><p>"Well, you came unannounced. I'm not complaining, by the way. We could always do that, you know" he proposed. "A study group? With Diana, if you want" he stopped when he realized he was rambling.</p><p>"That's fine. She's not allowed to go out much these days, with all the finishing school business" she answered. "But we could study. Just maybe, sometimes at Green Gables? I know Marilla doesn't mind me coming here from time to time, but she won't like it if I'm never there" Gilbert nodded. He liked the Cuthberts. "So, where are you having trouble?" she asked, as they sat with their steaming cups. And like that, they started discussing that week's essay topic and all other kinds of academic dilemmas they had.</p><p>Bash and Mary arrived sometime later and found them engrossed in a discussion, so after greeting them they decided to start supper and leave them to their own devices. When they called Anne and Gilbert for dinner, Gilbert already had a clearer mind on what to write about and Anne looked relaxed. Mary was smiling.</p><p>"How was the walk?" Gilbert asked them.</p><p>"Lovely. The hip is much better. This baby needs to come out now, or else he's going to drive me crazy" Mary answered.</p><p>"You still have about a month to go," Gilbert said apologetically, a hand on her belly, feeling a kick from the baby.</p><p>"As if I didn't know!" she said but was in a good mood. They ate and shared and when they were picking up the dishes Mary asked Gilbert:</p><p>"You're taking Anne home, right?" he hadn't really thought about it but had no problem doing so. Just as he told her when she came. "It's night already and I know Marilla doesn't like her walking around alone at this time"</p><p>"As if something had ever happened" countered Anne, exasperated. "I don't need to…"</p><p>"Just in case. Let me accompany you, please?" Gilbert asked, interrupting her. Anne rolled her eyes.</p><p>"Fine, fine…" she answered. "I really can take care of myself, though. Shall we, then? I know it's not late but I did promise Marilla to be there before nine" Gilbert made a gesture signalling the door, and Anne went ahead to grab her scarf and coat and said goodbye to the couple. He took his new scarf and put it on proudly. Bash winked at him and he beamed. He followed her outside.</p><p>"So… walk, buggy or horse?" he asked, as usual, when they were on the porch. He loved these little moments where he got to be with her, just talking, with no worries. Over the past months, little by little, she had told him snippets of her life in service and at the orphanage. Every time she looked more at peace, more relaxed, and he was sure this had something to do with it.</p><p>"Buggy? It is a bit cold…" she said. He looked at her, with only her dress and her coat. Not the winter one, but the one she had worn all through the fall. And he knew she didn't have a sweater under that.</p><p>"Buggy it is. But… come, let's go inside for a minute." he said after thinking something for a second. They came in again and Mary and Bash looked at them, confused. "Wait here," he said, before taking to the stairs and looking hurriedly in his trunk. There it was. Already too small for him, maybe it would be her size. It was the same knitted fisherman sweater he had lived in, day in and day out, when his father was dying, almost two years ago. If someone was to have that sweater, it was his dear Anne. "Here, put this on. It is freezing out, I wouldn't be surprised if we had snow tonight" he said, giving the sweater to Anne. She looked at it and then at him. "You can keep it. It's very warm and cozy, but too small for me now" he assured her and extended his hands offering to take her coat. She obliged and put his old sweater on. It was big for her slight frame, but it was warm. He helped her put the coat again. She smiled. "I'll prepare the buggy, wait here if you prefer"</p><p>"No, I'll go with you. It's too warm to stay inside with all these layers, anyway" she said.</p><p>They went in comfortable silence, only the sounds of the buggy and the horse. He looked at her. With a blanket on her legs, her coat and his sweater, she seemed to be warm and cozy. She smiled.</p><p>"Thank you for the sweater. It really wasn't necessary" she said, after a while.</p><p>"I know. Still, I knew you'd be more comfortable. It hasn't fit for years so it was just stored, and it's best if you put it to good use" he answered. Plus, he liked how she looked in it. And he liked that she had something of his. "And you gave me a perfect scarf, so I think it's only fair. Like a trade. But you really should look for your winter coat, it seems like it's going to be a harsh one."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. December</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>From now on, each chapter is a month. I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Christmas dinner was even better than the year before. Mary had insisted they had the Cuthberts over again after the spectacular Thanksgiving dinner, and they all had participated in preparing a magnificent feast. Well, except Matthew, who had spent most of the time by the fireplace. Anne looked splendid with a new, dark green dress that brought out her eyes, her hair in a single braid.</p><p>Unlike the year before, they were all much more comfortable around one another, joy undivided. They all exchanged gifts, even giving some to the baby that still wasn't born. Everyone made jokes and talked and laughed. Anne gave him a knitted sweater that she declared was her proudest work, that had only been possible thanks to Marilla's guidance.</p><p>"I love it, Anne. I will wear it often and feel warm thanks to you" he said, looking earnestly at her. Then added, teasing her "Is it your purpose now to knit me a whole wardrobe?" she threw him a cushion and the next present was passed between laughter.</p><p>At some point Marilla was with Mary in the kitchen and Matthew was talking with Bash about something, and he found himself alone with Anne. It was not the first time, of course, but there was something about that night that made him feel different. Maybe it was the cordial? Maybe it was Christmas? The joy? The warmth of his new sweater, that felt just like a lingering hug and still smelled of her?</p><p>They were seating in one of the sofas, Anne looking through the book he had gotten her (that, and some new leather gloves as she had complained of how small last year's were). He was just contemplating her. December. She would be sixteen in three months. When everything had started, almost three years ago, he hadn't fully understood his father. But now, he thought he did. He had managed to find himself after working his way through the Caribbean in the furnace of a ship. To let her learn about herself. To get to know her for more than her independence, fierceness and looks. To talk her through her troubles. And even through his. To hold her as she cried and let himself be held when he did.</p><p>He had developed feelings for her he didn't know were possible and, sure as he was from the moment he had met her in the woods, there was no denying anything now. He hoped, only hoped, to have managed to develop something inside her towards him. He hoped the stammering and the blushes and the scarf and the sweater and the trust all meant what he wanted to believe.</p><p>At first, three years seemed like an extraordinary amount of time. He remembered thinking he would be old, three years from then. Live would have gone by. Or so it had seemed at the moment. But his father had been right. He wouldn't have wanted a teenage romance. Quick, immediate and with no future, like other relationships he had seen in school and around town. He wanted what he could now start to see. Something deeper, fuller, stronger.</p><p>"Everything alright?" Anne asked him, looking at him. He blinked.</p><p>"Yes. Sorry" he said, feeling himself blush a little. Anne smiled. "Got lost in my thoughts, was thinking about dad"</p><p>"Oh. Something you want to share?" she asked, closing the book. He refused with a quick shake of his head and gave her a lopsided smile to her. She nodded. "So, tell me. Where did you find this book? I can't believe it exists. The illustrations, the stories… There is so much scope for the imagination in every single page I can't wait to have time to read it"</p><p>"In a tiny bookstore in Charlottetown. I'll take you there one day if I can" he said. "Any story that caught your attention?" he asked. She looked at the book, like there were just so many options she didn't know where to start. "Come" he invited her over to his side of the sofa. "I read the whole thing before wrapping it" he admitted, as Anne went to sit beside him, tucking her legs under herself. She laughed. He motioned for the book and she gave it to him. He looked through it for a moment. "This one is my favourite. May I read it to you?" he asked, watching her eyes. She nodded quickly, making a happy sound. Gilbert started reading calmly. He loved reading aloud ever since his father had asked him, when he could no longer read comfortably, and missed doing so terribly. He might not do it as eloquently as Anne, but he knew he did it well, with good diction and intonation. He was just a few paragraphs in when the others came back with mulled wine and fruitcake to the living room. They served everything, the book left alone in the table.</p><p>"What were you reading, Gilbert?" asked Mary.</p><p>"Just one story from the book I gave Anne," he answered, smiling. "Would you… like me to keep reading?" he finally asked, by the looks they were all giving him.</p><p>"Oh yes, please!" Anne asked, grabbing the throw Bash kept on the back of the sofa and wrapping herself in it. Marilla nodded, as did the others. He took the book again and started over, feeling how Anne rested her head on his shoulder and all listened to the story, cake and wine to accompany it.</p><hr/><p>He could get used to this. He really could, Gilbert thought, as he carried a sleeping Anne, wrapped in the warm throw, to his father's bed. She instinctively burrowed her face in the hollow of his neck, and as he felt her breath in his collarbone something stirred inside him that he had only imagined before. Bash had offered to the Cuthberts that she spend the night there, as they had the spare room and she was dead asleep when he finished reading. They thanked him for his hospitality, told them there was no hurry for her to be home the next day and went quietly. Gilbert undid the bed with one hand, carrying her with the other arm, and put her there as softly as he could, almost losing the equilibrium and falling on top of her. Then he took her shoes off, marvelling at how small her feet were and how they curled under the throw she was still wrapped in.</p><p>"Come on, Anne-girl," he said quietly, trying to accommodate her in the bed. She mumbled something and wrapped herself more on the fabric. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, ever so lightly. "Come, love. You'll wake up freezing if I don't cover you properly" he insisted, noticing the slip of tongue and reprimanding himself. She blinked a bit, confused.</p><p>"Where..? How…?" she mumbled, disoriented. He smiled softly.</p><p>"You're safe. This is my father's room. You're spending the night here. Matthew and Marilla just went" he explained. He still needed to tuck her in properly, though. She furrowed, but nodded, too sleepy to discuss and wrapped herself a bit more on the throw, if that was even possible. "No more mulled wine for you" he chuckled. "Now, Anne-girl, just let me take this throw so I can cover you with proper blankets. How does that sound, eh?" he said quietly. She stood up a little after a moment, just long enough for Gilbert to pull the fabric. He then pulled the duvet over her and a wool blanket over it. His house was wickedly cold during the night, especially his father's room. She seemed fast asleep by then. He smiled warmly and kissed her hair. "Good night, love," he said, this time on purpose, before leaving the room, taking the lamp with him.</p><hr/><p>He joined Bash and Mary in the kitchen to help clean the night's dishes. They were talking quietly and smiled knowingly at him when he entered. Gilbert was still thinking about how Anne looked so peaceful at sleep that he didn't even notice. Bash threw him a tea towel.</p><p>"You lover boy can help to dry dishes," he said jokingly. Gilbert laughed and shook his head. Anne was going to wake up tomorrow at his place. He smiled. He went and started drying as directed. "She's asleep now?"</p><p>"She hasn't been awake for the past hour, Bash" he answered. "Something to remember next Christmas: never to give Anne Shirley-Cuthbert mulled wine, in the fear that she may succumb to a very heavy sleep" he chuckled. Bash laughed.</p><p>"You're not complaining, are you?" he asked.</p><p>"Of course not. I'm stupidly happy" Gilbert said. "And I have no idea why, when I just have the girl I love just sleeping because she passed out for drinking mulled wine on Christmas Eve"</p><p>"You get to have her for Christmas breakfast," said Mary. "Why are you stubbornly waiting, again?"</p><p>"Some history about his father," said Bash, dismissing it.</p><p>"Hey, I've been finding value in this. So don't spoil it for me" Gilbert defended himself, putting away the dessert plates. "She's almost of age, and the wait has been worth it"</p><p>"If you say so… Can you boys finish the cleaning? My back is killing me" Mary asked. They acquiesced and she went to bed as Gilbert stayed with Bash, talking and bartering while organizing the kitchen, enjoying the night like they usually did. They went to sleep with a content heart after a full day spent between loved ones. This day had been so much easier than Thanksgiving that it felt like a breath of fresh air. Maybe talking did help. Or time.</p><hr/><p>The next morning, Gilbert made sure to wake up early. It wasn't like he ever slept until late (he never slept much, if he was being honest), but he didn't want Anne to wake up and go back to Green Gables unnoticed. He fully intended to spend as much time as he could with her. He put a sweater over his undershirt and headed downstairs. The LaCroix were still sleeping as he made his way to the kitchen, just peering inside his father's room to check on Anne. She was still fully covered, her back to the door and red hair everywhere, braid almost undone.</p><p>He put more wood on the furnace and the kettle to boil, then started some preparations for breakfast and left everything just to be cooked, so when the others woke up there wasn't much to do. Humming contently, he chopped some veggies for the eggs. Looking at Mary's preserves, he chose a raspberry one as he smiled remembering Anne's tarts. He sat down with his cup of tea a few minutes later and continued reading his book and effectively losing track of time and his surroundings.</p><p>"Gilbert?" he heard after a while, when he was reading about leg muscles. He looked up. "Why…?" she looked confused, her dress very crumpled (it looked like she had tried smoothing it), her hair loose, longer than what it seemed when it was braided. He smiled at her.</p><p>"Good morning" he greeted her, standing up and walking towards her. "You fell asleep yesterday. We tried waking you up but apparently mulled wine is not your thing" he spoke softly and winked at her. She brought her hand to her forehead, turning beet red. "Marilla and Matthew know you're here, of course, and said there is absolutely no hurry for you to be back at Green Gables. Don't worry about it, honest. It really is fine. We have the fortune of having my father's room available when needed"</p><p>"I won't drink <em>ever</em> again. It <em>always</em> ends in some trouble" she mumbled. Gilbert chuckled, caressing her arm lightly with the back of his hand.</p><p>"Well, you did enjoy the wine. Maybe just a half glass next time, it's just trial and error. And it's different with every liquor, don't rule them all out" Gilbert said, remembering his own experiences in the ports of call while he worked at the ship and tried desperately to get his mind off his father's death and the redhead back home. There had been a horrible first experience with the local drink, but by that point he had sampled half the rums in the Caribbean and learnt to dance to the islands' rhythms. "Do you want some tea? Come, seat" Anne sat and grumbled. Gilbert chuckled. "Never thought you wouldn't be a morning person" he gave her a steaming cup and sat down again. She drank her tea in silence as he read for a bit more. He felt like he was talking too much, so decided to read for a bit while Anne drank her tea. When he finished the section and closed the book, he looked at her, who was absorbed on her drink. "Sorry. I just wanted to finish that bit. Are you hungry? I was thinking about waiting for Mary and Bash, but I can cook something now if you want".</p><p>"No, it's fine. I'm not hungry, really. I just have a headache" she said quietly, looking at her mug. She seemed ashamed of something, or uncomfortable, in addition to being a bit hungover. He stood up again and went to fetch a big glass of water and some bicarbonate.</p><p>"Drink up. It will help you feel better, I promise" he said, putting it in front of her. She averted her gaze but obeyed nonetheless. "There's nothing to be ashamed of Anne. Trust me" he resisted the urge of holding her face gently so she would look at him and see how serious he was about her not having done anything wrong. "Anne, look at me", he said quietly. She did so, but reluctantly and miserably "You didn't embarrass yourself, did anything inappropriate, nothing. Believe me." she nodded, unconvinced. "Ask Bash about the first time I drank babash back on the islands and you'll have a laugh about how ridiculous I was. This was <em>not</em> like that. You fell asleep. That's it. It won't go out of this house and yours. I'm just surprised you don't seem to remember anything. You didn't seem to drink that much, not even two glasses" he'd had blackouts before, but after drinking some concoctions that probably he shouldn't have tried in the first place.</p><p>"Oh, I do… Well, I think I do. I'm a bit confused" she admitted, after a moment. "It's like I don't know when I was dreaming and when I was awake. I have more clarity up until I fell asleep when you were reading. Did Marilla take the book? I would like to know how the story finishes"</p><p>"The book is here. We can read it later, don't worry" he reassured her. "What are you confused about?" he asked gently. She looked at him, turning red yet again. And then it hit him: could she actually recall what he said when he was putting her to bed? The small caress he couldn't help but give her? Maybe that was what was making her uncomfortable? <em>Oh, well.</em> There was no going back, now. He just wouldn't go into any specifics. "Maybe I can help you? The Cuthberts noticed it was late. We tried to wake you to no avail. Bash suggested my father's room and Marilla and Matthew agreed. They seem to trust Mary and Bash for everything, as far as I know, and you already know that she trusts me as well because of my father. Then they said their goodbyes, told us you didn't have to worry about the hour today. I carried you to bed. You needed some nudging, but I managed to tuck you in after taking your shoes off. Then you slept soundly until this morning, or so I think" he skipped some bits on purpose, but really, there was absolutely no need to tell her he had called her "love" without realizing it. Twice. She nodded.</p><p>"Ok, well. If that's all, then good" she said after a moment, still looking confused, like something wasn't right. "Are they expecting me soon? Maybe I should head over to Green Gables"</p><p>"Anne, really. Don't worry. Like I told you, they said you could take your time. They know you're here, with the three of us. So there's no need to rush unless you want to" he added, almost crossing his fingers under the table. "I can take you later this afternoon if you wish, or you can head after breakfast. It's Christmas. Relax" he looked at her intently. Her shoulders dropped a little.</p><p>"Merry Christmas," she said, tentatively, after a couple of minutes. He smiled. "Your house is a bit cold on the mornings, isn't it?" she finally asked.</p><p>"All the time. But yes, in the mornings it's colder because no one tends to the furnace at night and it needs some repairs. I already put some wood in, but it takes a bit to warm up. Do you want a sweater? A change of clothes, even, if you don't mind wearing my old things..." she blushed. "Have your wore pants before?" he asked curiously.</p><p>"Oh well…" she said, blushing. He raised his eyebrows. He really wanted to know all of Anne's stories and this only added to the list. "Maybe just the sweater, if you'll forgive the terrible state of this dress? Had I known I would sleep over I would have brought pyjamas"</p><p>"Anne, you weren't <em>conscious</em> to change into pyjamas," he said slowly because apparently, it was not evident to her what she was implying. "You would <em>still</em> have the crumpled dress, as I honestly don't think it's nowhere <em>near proper</em> for me to change you into anything" trying not to imagine anything and failing. Miserably. Both of them blushed. "So… just the sweater, then. You don't want to relive your days as a tomboy on Christmas?" he asked, trying desperately to change the subject, take the image he had right now <em>off</em> his mind, and maybe prompt her to tell the story he knew was there, somewhere. She looked at her dress. It truly was very crumpled. He didn't mind, but she appeared to care more.</p><p>"Will they actually fit? The pants, I mean" she asked. He shrugged.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure we can find something. There are loads of things that haven't fit me for a long time. Come, you can change upstairs" he lead the way and by the time he realized, he was bringing Anne into his childhood room. Undone bed, last night's clothes on the floor, a stack of books in the nightstand. "Whoops. Sorry about the mess" he apologized. She dismissed it with a gesture and walked slowly around, looking. He went to the truck where he kept all his old clothes and started examining them. "Here, sweater" he tossed it towards her, looking for the rest of the clothes. Mmm... These shirts were from when he was about fourteen. Four years, already. Just before they went to Alberta. He picked one that seemed to be in a decent state. "Shirt" she managed to catch this time, more prepared. He took out a couple of pants and extended them. "Well, I actually have no idea about these. Just take both and try and decide? Do you want socks?" Anne was just looking at him. He went to his dresser and rummaged for a decent pair. He saw the small velvet pouch his father gave him and pushed it far towards the end of the drawer. <em>Too soon.</em> He found some thick, woollen ones that he knew didn't have any holes in them. "Here. Socks." he looked at the stack of clothing on her arms. "Well, you'll look like a younger me. That will be something. I can leave you to change, if you want"</p><p>"O-ok" she accepted. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, one of the most eloquent women he knew, seemed to get mute when around him more often each time. At a loss of words. She didn't look very sure about anything right now. He looked at her.</p><p>"You do know Miss Stacy wears pants half the time, do you?" he asked. She smiled a bit. "There, change and be comfortable. I'll wait for you downstairs. If you need anything, water to wash your face, anything, just use it. I think you can find everything on the washstand, but let me know if you're missing anything. Feel at home and stop worrying" he squeezed her arm before leaving the room.</p><hr/><p>"So, has Anne woken up yet? I thought I heard some voices upstairs" Mary asked him as he entered the kitchen. He smiled. "You took her to your room? <em>Gilbert Blythe, explain yourself</em>!" she asked, wide-eyed. It was absolutely not proper! She seemed about to yell at him.</p><p>"Just to lend her some clothes, relax. It's not like she slept there or anything" he said. "Breakfast? I have almost everything ready. And merry Christmas to you too" he winked and kissed her on the cheek.</p><p>"What clothes could you lend Anne? Do you think one of my dresses would fit her?" Mary asked.</p><p>"Well, considering I'm not a lady like yourself, I lent her what I could. Some clothes that maybe will fit her, but nothing lady-like. Just my old clothes from a few years back. I don't think yours will, though. You're much bigger than her, she's <em>tiny</em>. And I don't even mean your dresses from now, I mean the ones before the pregnancy" Mary laughed. "Feel free to go up and offer them if you want, though, but I'm pretty sure she will swim in your dresses" he laughed as well "I'm not sure she digs my look, so probably it's worth a try" Mary went upstairs telling him to prepare breakfast. He started cooking and saw Mary come back and then up again, and finally Anne appearing when he was plating the eggs.</p><p>She appeared on the doorway, shy in his old clothes, but refreshed and happier. Her hair still loose, she looked lovely with the old knit sweater, the pants and the thick socks. She could keep them, as far as he knew. Who would have thought women could pull off this look so well? He absolutely loved it.</p><p>"Thank you for the dress, Mary. It just was too big" she said, giving the woman the neatly folded dress. Gilbert looked at Mary triumphantly. "I folded the rest and left it on your bed, Gil. I hope that's alright. Hi, Bash" he greeted her as well, not commenting on her dress.</p><p>"It's fine, don't worry about it" he dismissed it, and then looked at her again. "I think between you and Miss Stacy you could start a whole new trend, to be honest. You look good" She smiled a bit as he put the dishes on the table. "Well, no one's hungry?" He asked and everyone took a seat eagerly and started eating with gusto.</p><p>"It's so good. Who knew you could cook" Anne said after a moment.</p><p>"You'd be surprised the skills one learns when living alone" he winked. "And Mary's tips, as well, but you know that already"</p><p>"What Blythe here wants to say, is that he's trying" Bash made fun of him. "He's only good at making eggs and <em>one</em> kind of soup"</p><p>"That's not fair! My cooking has improved very much, hasn't it, Mary?" he tried to defend himself. His sister just laughed, as did Anne.</p><p>"If it's any comfort, at least you can cook something <em>really</em> well," the redhead said and he smiled. They enjoyed breakfast together, talking, Anne looking more like herself as time passed, staying at the table for hours, discussing every topic that crossed their minds. It was past noon when Anne decided it was time to go.</p><p>"They'll think I don't care about them," she said fondly about the Cuthberts. Gilbert stood up as well.</p><p>"Do you want that I walk you over?" he asked. She shook her head and he frowned a bit.</p><p>"Frankly, it isn't necessary, Gilbert. It's midday. I don't need to be escorted the whole time" he nodded, still a frown in his forehead. That had stung a bit. He was just enjoying her company and hadn't thought much of it. He hadn't meant it as chaperoning her, just taking a walk.</p><p>"Right. I'll walk you to the door, then. Don't forget your book" he added, a bit coldly, as he walked over to the sitting room. Better not to insist. <em>Too much, too fast.</em> "Bring our regards to Marilla and Matthew, please," he said formally at the door as she was taking her leave, still uneasy. She gave her a weird look and started walking, dress folded with her book under her arm. He went back inside in a bad mood.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. January</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gilbert didn't try talking to Anne for the rest of the holidays. <em>Too much, too soon</em>, he repeated himself often. He read, studied, worked for a bit on the farm and joined Bash and Mary near the fire as the impending birth neared. Dr. Ward had coached him many Saturdays on what to do to help Mary, as the nearest doctor had refused to see her and there was no way they were going to arrive in Charlottetown in time when the time came. None of the Bog's midwives could afford to go to Avonlea for weeks, either. He was beyond nervous but Bash was completely confident in his abilities after seeing how he had managed in the islands. Mary just trusted them: she believed blindly in Gilbert and had had Elijah by herself, so anything else would be an improvement.</p><p>It was on the second week of the term that the baby decided to make an appearance, one week after the designated due date. Mary started with the contractions late a Tuesday night and they were still very further apart the next morning when Gilbert was trying to decide if he should stay home or go to school. None had slept. It wasn't even that he wanted to go. There just had been very little progress and there was no real need for him to be there, waiting anxiously and only adding to the stress. Plus, he felt that this was a special moment for the incipient parents and he wanted them to have some moments of privacy while it was still feasible.</p><p>"Go. There's plenty of time" Mary assured him. He thought so as well, as she was nowhere near fully dilated and the contractions, albeit regular, were still very apart. Her water hadn't even broken yet. "I can always send Bash to get you if it comes to that, and I do know you worked very hard in that paper" he nodded.</p><p>"The paper is the last of my worries. But ok. Let's do this. As soon as your contractions are 7-8 minutes apart or if your water breaks, Bash is to go look for me. Not a minute later. I still prefer to have a margin" he said, looking very seriously at Mary. She nodded, tired. "I'll be back for lunch, there is no need for me to be there the whole day. You try to rest now that you can. Hey, Bash, prepare a warm bath for Mary, will you? Maybe it helps with the pain" he nodded and started pulling out pots to warm the water. "Not too hot."</p><p>"Go, Gilbert. I'll send him to you" she interrupted. He nodded, grabbed his things, kissed her on the head and ran. He was already very late. And apparently, he wasn't the only one. He nearly tripped with Anne as he entered without looking while taking off the blue scarf.</p><p>"Sorry," they said at the same time and just stood staring. "Mary's in labour," he said, quietly. He knew they didn't usually speak in school, and they hadn't exchanged more than a very few words after Christmas, but she would like to know and he felt the need to take it off his chest.</p><p>"What are you doing here?!" was her angry answer. Well, yell. So much for being quiet. He blinked, surprised. "She needs you now, it's a most eventful moment! Aren't you delivering that baby?" She continued. He nodded. It wasn't like he didn't know that, he just knew as well that the baby would be born this evening, if he was lucky, and probably even tomorrow. Anne looked at him, furious, about to continue speaking.</p><p>"I know, Anne," he said quietly at last, very tired. The whole class was staring at them. Miss Stacy was still in her office, but Anne's yells had attracted the attention of the whole group. "Calm down. She's not very far along. Still has hours before she needs anything from me. Believe me," he explained, trying to calm her with his eyes, with his hands. "Bash's coming to fetch me if she advances too much, and I'll only stay until noon in any case." She nodded.</p><p>"Ok, then. I'll go with you," she decided. He frowned. What? He wasn't going to say no, but…</p><p>"As you wish," he said finally, ending for good the conversation and turning his back to her (and the rest of the class) to hang calmly the scarf and coat. Gilbert had zero intention of any kind of confrontation today and only wanted to stay sharp and awake for Mary, as long as she needed him, which was proving increasingly difficult. He heard her grown and almost chuckled. She must have realized the attention she caught. He took off the gloves slowly and by the time he turned, she was among her friends, everyone was talking and he went to his seat. He yawned while sitting.</p><p>"You're <em>actually</em> delivering a baby, Blythe?" Charlie asked him impressed.</p><p>"Well, it's… not precisely like that" he answered. After all the explanations from Dr. Ward, he had come to the conclusion that he was just there to help, guide and catch, and that Mary had all the necessary abilities to deliver the baby herself. "Women know how to do this, Charlie. I think it's instinctual. I'll just help as much as I can in case anything happens" he explained, just as Miss Stacy entered the classroom.</p><p>"So you are delivering the baby," Charlie said. Gilbert shrugged. He wasn't about to fight this.</p><p>The day went so quickly and slowly at the same time that he didn't know what to think. He watched the clock every five minutes, thinking any crack of the wood was Bash coming to fetch him. He presented his paper and by the time Miss Stacy dismissed them for lunch he didn't know what he had done the whole morning or how it could be this time already.</p><p>"Yes, Gilbert?" asked the teacher when he went to speak with her.</p><p>"I'm heading back home, now. I just wanted to let you know. I will catch up on any assignments you leave today," he explained.</p><p>"Everything is ok? Do you need any help?" She asked worriedly.</p><p>"Everything's fine, don't worry Miss Stacy. Mary is in labour and I'm going back to help," he explained. "I think I might be able to come tomorrow, but I won't know until later"</p><p>"Don't worry. Off you go" she said. He nodded and turned. He was adjusting his scarf and coat when Anne seemed to materialize by his side.</p><p>"Don't believe you're leaving without me," she said, still angry from the morning. What about, he had no idea. He opened his hands in front of his chest, as if apologizing.</p><p>"I haven't left yet," he said, raising an eyebrow. "So, coming?" he asked, as he was now heading out and she wasn't moving. She hurried to be beside him. They walked without speaking, at a brisk pace, the whole lot of distance between them a bit unusual.</p><hr/><p>"We're home!" he called as he entered the house, followed closely by Anne.</p><p>"Who's we?!" he heard Bash's voice, coming from their room.</p><p>"Anne decided to tag along," he answered, as he took his scarf looking pointedly at her. She was still fuming, hadn't said a word in the whole way and Gilbert was starting to get pissed off about the whole situation, something he honestly didn't want. He went to wash his hands and put some pots on the stove to get water heating. Meanwhile, Anne just went to the Lacroix room.</p><p>"How are you doing, Mary?" he asked her when he finally went to the room. Anne was busy organizing and trying to make herself useful, probably less than impressed that everything was calm and controlled. He was pretty sure she had wanted to yell to him "I told you so!" but had no excuse to do so. Bash was behind Mary, giving her a slight massage on the back.</p><p>"I just want this to be over, to be honest."</p><p>"How often are they now? Have you timed them, Bash?" Gilbert asked, sitting next to her.</p><p>"About 8 minutes. About to have one in a bit" he answered, looking at the clock Gilbert had left in the morning. Gilbert counted a bit.</p><p>"Mary, do you mind if I take a look to see how you're progressing?" he asked. She nodded and rested her head in the pillows, opening her legs, skirt covering them. Gilbert tried to be as quick as possible, ignoring Anne's very scandalized look. "Well, at least you're pretty much dilated. You have to get to ten centimetres and my guess is you're already ahead of nine." she nodded, smiling as sweat beaded on her forehead, breathing deeply. He could see she truly was in pain. He absolutely could not understand how medicine had nothing to offer to help impending mothers to cope with childbirth pains. "Ok, Mary. I know you'll hate me for this, but how about going for a walk?" He asked, calmly, smiling tentatively. He knew moving helped for many things, including pains, so maybe it was a far fetched association but was worth trying. Anne looked at him, ready to answer, and he raised a hand to silence her, not even turning to see her. He wasn't going to deal with temperamental Anne. Not now, not today.</p><p>"I'm so desperate by this point that…" Mary started answering and then grabbed the hand Gilbert offered as she endured the contraction, holding it very tightly. He could see how she was doing all she could to avoid crying in pain. Gilbert watched his clock meanwhile, trying his best to appear as calm and collected as he could. It would do no good to anyone if he freaked out. A couple of deep breaths after it passed, and she continued. "Let's go before I change my mind". Gilbert helped her get up and held her by the waist. It had started snowing, so there really was no point in going out and they just went from one side of the house to the other, stopping wherever necessary.</p><p>She was starting to get nauseous when her water broke when it was already dark outside. Everything moved very quickly from there. Anne, for once, did what she was told and was quick and diligent without questioning anything. Bash supported his wife as much as he could. Gilbert tried to encourage her to follow what her body asked. And all too soon, a baby girl was born. He caught her, all covered in vernix, and cleaned her a bit, checking everything was where it was supposed to be and she was breathing well, before letting her rest in Mary's bosom, still connected to her mother by the cord. Anne was cleaning the blood and fluids but stopped to look at the baby like she was about to cry of joy and loss. Gilbert was looking at her just at that moment and frowned a bit about what it could mean. Then he went back to work, still attentive, as the placenta was still to come.</p><hr/><p>A while later, after helping Mary get comfortable and seeing baby Delphine try to latch, Gilbert dragged himself to his room. He didn't close the door, as he wasn't used to doing so, being the only one who used the second floor. At least for now: they already had designated one of the vacant bedrooms as the baby's room.</p><p>Bash was so, so elated that even he couldn't believe it. Mary looked so very tired, but happy, even blissful. There had been none of the complications he had revised extensively with Dr. Ward, just in case. Just a small tear. No breach birth. No need for horrible contraptions. It had been a beautiful birth, so full of love and trust among all of them. Baby Delphine had arrived, bright eyes, watching all of them and already belonging to the family, everyone accomodating to her in the past couple of hours as if she had been there for months.</p><p>Gilbert was happy as well. He felt at peace, the body and the mind tired after a job well done. Content. As traumatic as the experience on the islands had been, this one has been so full of love, so calm, that there was no possible comparison. He had felt so anxious about everything, but it had been all worth it. Very few times he had felt as connected with the present moment as he had when Mary was pushing. Even with her cries of pain, they had been supported by the efforts Bash had made to make her feel the most loved and comfortable as it was possible, considering the circumstances. He didn't want to dampen his good mood thinking about the racist doctor of the area.</p><p>Gilbert felt the family transform for the better in just this short time. He knew the dynamic among the three of them would evolve, and had been apprehensive at first. Now, he knew the changes, even if there were sleepless nights in their futures, were all for the absolute better.</p><p>He rested his hands on the windowsill watching the dark, snowy landscape outside, all the fatigue of the last day wearing on him, and sighted. Dr. Ward would probably be proud of him, he thought as he chuckled. One day, he would be in Bash's place, presenting proudly his firstborn in the company of what he hoped was a redheaded wife. He shook his head as if to disperse the foolish thoughts. It was too soon. Maybe he could pursue this line of medicine. Babies. It looked so full of love and wonder. And he would manage to research something for the pain.</p><p>Yawning, he took off his stained, sweaty shirt, throwing it on the floor as he walked towards the washstand. He proceeded to wash his hands and arms thoroughly and then walked to the bed as he pushed the suspenders down to the sides and moved his shoulders a bit, trying to soothe some of the tension. Love, happiness and bliss, yes, but it had been also one of the scariest, most stressful experiences he had ever endured. He just couldn't fail Mary. He couldn't fail Bash. Nor the baby. He took off the undershirt as well, as he had splashed it when washing he didn't want to wet his blankets. He collapsed on his bed, an arm over his face and took off his shoes the way his father hated ("you'll just ruin them, boy!" he would have said) because he was so, <em>so </em>tired, he didn't want to get up.</p><hr/><p>Gilbert didn't know how much time had passed (two minutes? three hours?) when he heard some steps coming closer.</p><p>"Gil?" it was Anne. For once in his life, he had honestly forgotten about her. Maybe that's what he should do, tend to births so that he could get her off his mind once in a while. "I've brought you a bit of soup so you don't go to sleep without supper," she continued, as he didn't say anything. He took off his arm from his face and lifted his head a bit.</p><p>"Thanks, Anne," he tried to smile. She had a tray on her hands and was on the doorway, apparently not knowing what to do and avoiding to look at him directly. He sat on the bed, unsure as well, his mind foggy as the adrenaline of the past hours was long gone. He was just about to get up when she decided something and went inside his room and gave him the tray.</p><p>"Here," she said as she gave it to him, looking at the floor. "Don't worry about Mary and Bash. I've already given them some." Gilbert looked at her and nodded, noticing she was blushing. Anne stood there, apparently not knowing if she should go or stay, very uncomfortable. He tried the soup. It was yummy.</p><p>"It's delicious," Gilbert said, smiling to her. She only blushed more. "Want to sit? Or I can always take it downstairs, it doesn't matter… You didn't need to bring it up," he said. He suddenly realized what was happening, and couldn't help but laugh. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was mute and blushing because he had no shirt on? She looked mortified and turned to the door. "Stay, really, Anne," he said quickly, getting up. Opening his wardrobe, he put on the first undershirt he found and she looked instantly more at ease but still blushing. He decided not to comment on it. It was very dark outside already, and in his room the only light came from the candle Anne had put on the tray. He went back to bed, patted beside him inviting her over, and had some more soup. Delicious. "I'll go down to organize the kitchen" she finally said.</p><p>"Ok. Don't worry too much about it, I can always do that tomorrow" feeling a bit sharper now that there was something in his stomach and he was more awake. "What time is it?" he asked, as she was heading to the door.</p><p>"About midnight," she answered, going to the door.</p><p>"Shoot. Let me just quickly eat this and I'll bring you home, Marilla and Matthew must be dead worried," he said, all the tiredness leaving him at once as he had a new task. She looked fuming at him. Anne couldn't be serious, could she?</p><p>"I can fend for myself," she spat and continued her way to the kitchen. Gilbert sighed. He was sure of that, but he also knew the Cuthberts like they were his own family. He ate one, two tablespoons more, because genuily, it was that good, and then put on his shoes without tying them before racing down the stairs, still only in his undershirt. Just in time, as she was putting on her scarf.</p><p>"I'm not letting you walk home at midnight in the middle of the winter, less when it was snowing not three hours ago," he said sternly. Today he had been all about giving orders when needed and he could keep doing so if it meant taking care of her. "Marilla will have my head, and I won't be able to sleep not knowing if you got there safely," she rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Anne, I'm serious" He gave three steps to the door and pushed it closed. "Wait, I'll go put on something on and I'll take you on the horse. It's quicker, which at this point I think it's good, and we won't have snow up to our knees. You can be as mad as you want, I don't care." She could. He was being indisputably serious. Gilbert was actually furious himself for her carelessness and just doing this for the old couple of siblings at this point. He could use the sleep and he frankly didn't need to deal with Anne's stubbornness at that moment.</p><p>"Fine, fine" she answered, crossing her arms, a weird look in her eyes. Clearly not impressed. This might be only the first time he spoke to her in a stern voice. Not angry, not annoyed, just dead serious. He went to his room and put on the sweater she had given him for Christmas. She was still there when he came back down and grabbed the checkered coat and blue scarf.</p><p>"Come," he said curtly, grabbing a lantern starting to walk to the barn in tense silence. After quickly preparing the horse, they mounted and took off fairly quickly. Anne on the front, grabbing the saddle, him giving her an uncomfortable open hug while he directed the reins. Probably if they weren't as tense he would have enjoyed it. Neither of them said a word before arriving at Green Gables, where the lights were still on. Gilbert got off the horse to open the gate to the farm and guided him in, directing it up to the entrance of the house. Marilla was already there when they reached it. "Good heavens! Are you alright, Anne?" she asked when they were getting near.</p><p>"Good night, Marilla" Gilbert greeted, as Anne jumped off the horse and went to the house without a word. Probably just to get away from him. "I'm sorry about the hour. Mary was in labour and Anne just wanted to help. Everything turned out perfect. They had a girl, Delphine" he explained.</p><p>"It was the most life-changing experience, Marilla! To be in the presence of the miracle of life! Oh, Marilla" she was beyond excited, ignoring him completely. The old lady smiled and hugged her, the good news appeasing her worry.</p><p>"I just wish you had sent word. Matthew is dead worried looking for you all over the forest," she said. Gilbert gave her a pointed look, raising an eyebrow (I told you so) and she turned her head. "Go inside, there's soup on the stove" Marilla added and ushered Anne inside. "Thank you for bringing her, Gilbert. Do you want to have some tea or soup? You don't look too good"</p><p>"Marilla, Anne prepared some back home. I don't want to intrude, it's late," he said, preparing to mount the horse again, adjusting the straps now that he was going alone. And right now, he wasn't in the mood to be around Anne, if he was being honest.</p><p>"Fiddlesticks," Marilla answered, in her no-nonsense voice. "Matthew is still outside looking for Anne so I have to wait until he's back and I'm sure the soup at your place won't go to waste. You'll have plenty of work for months now. Tie that horse and come inside," she decided. She rang the bell a couple of times, probably as a signal to Matthew if he happened to be within earshot, and went inside leaving no more room for discussion. Gilbert sighed. Well, he could use some supper, he supposed. He barely had any lunch and had had only a taste of Anne's soup. He was famished, he realized.</p><p>He left his boots at the entrance (he knew by then how much Marilla cared for her floors) and went to the kitchen. Anne was sitting, a steaming bowl in front of her and a thick slice of bread, telling Marilla all about the day's events. He sat in the place Marilla had laid out for him, next to Anne, and ate. It tasted like glory. Anne ignored him. He ignored her as well, concentrating on his food and participating only when Marilla asked for some detail. He could tell the old woman knew something was wrong among them. Matthew came in a while later, looking cold and tired, and Anne went to hug him, only to start her story all over again. Gilbert just sat, watching the endearing scene fondly, less angry now that he'd had something to eat, as he drank some tea Marilla gave him. He felt her hand give him a small squeeze on his shoulder and smiled up at her.</p><p>"I should go," he said quietly, getting up. Much as he loved seeing Anne talk passionately, ha had slept only two or three hours in the past day and didn't want to risk falling asleep while riding home. He bid his goodbyes and went outside. He wasn't sure about how to feel about the whole day after the bitter way to Green Gables, but he tried to concentrate on the positive: there was a brand new addition of love at home.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. February</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first month with little Delphine was a month of adjustments. They all knew it was going to be this way and wanted every part of it. Gilbert was amazed at how one tiny new human could bring so much joy and light to a house, even when it was already filled with love and happiness. Between the three of them, there was always a hand available for a nappy change, and Gilbert offered often to care for her during the night so the new parents could have a full night sleep. He still had insomnia many nights, anyway, so it was no problem for him.</p><p>Bash was smitten to the point Gilbert and Mary made fun of him. He spoke in a silly voice to the baby, was firm on the point that the only woman more beautiful than her was her mother, and wanted to do everything for her- Mary reminded him jokingly that he couldn't nurse her, even if he wanted to. Miss Cuthbert had taken to go to the house to lend a hand so that Mary could have some moments of rest during the weekdays, when both Bash and Gilbert had chores around the farm and studies to tend to.</p><p>"Come on, Bash" Gilbert insisted, playfully. He was going to teach his brother to skate in the ice because he knew he would enjoy it once he lost the fear he seemed to have. Mary was wrapped in many a blanket in the snow with little Delphine, watching them, and the two men were on the ice. Well, at least one of them was. "Nothing is going to happen, look at me!" he showed, as he skated some on the ice. The other one looked at him skeptically.</p><p>"I don't know, Blythe," he said. "I don't trust that ice. You're all skinny, but that won't hold me"</p><p>"Come on, Sebastian! Who's going to teach little Delly? You want to leave that task to Gilbert?" Mary asked, laughing, knowing that was going to be the way to convince him. Gilbert laughed as well.</p><p>"You know I won't have any problem in doing so, Mary. As a certain father won't be able to show her, since he is scared of skating" he called from the ice, easily doing circles. How he enjoyed skating, really. His favourite thing about the winter. It could be cold and miserable for days, but the ice was a constant for a few weeks and he loved to sneak time here and there to go. Only today he had managed to convince the LaCroix to go with him. And apparently, the only reason Mary wasn't beside him was that she wanted to be with her daughter.</p><p>"Alright, alright. But if this thing breaks and I die from pneumonia, you're at fault, Blythe" he said accusingly to the other one. He relaxed slowly, unsteady on his legs until something clicked on him and he could regain the equilibrium. At dusk, he was no longer scared but hadn't managed the art of stopping. All in all, the three adults had a jolly time and decided to do it more often. For what was left of winter, at least.</p><hr/><p>Not long after that, the extracurricular activities picked up as the guys in the class suggested a small hockey tournament that the girls could cover for their newspaper. They invited some of their former classmates, as they were short on people, and played in the afternoons. He managed to commission a stick from the Mi'kmaqs and was surprised at how cheap they sold them. They were such a high quality that he had wanted to pay more, only to have half his money returned to him by the imposing, yet kind-looking man.</p><p>Whatever closeness he had managed to build with Anne during the past season seemed long forgotten by her and he just dived into his various farm duties, the internship and his studies, as well as helping the couple with little Delly, with more vigour than was necessary to ignore the sting he felt inside. He went skating regularly, too. It helped to tire the body so he could sleep. Some nods here and there and bits of generic conversation was all they shared now, like on that match she decided to cover when she noticed Ruby wasn't doing anything.</p><p>While he tried to not stare at her like an idiot (when did her hair grew so long? How come she was wearing it loose now?) he couldn't help himself sometimes. Diana seemed to notice it more than Anne, giving him pointed looks, and he had gotten to the point where he didn't care. For all he knew now, Diana was as well aware of his feelings for the redhaired as Bash. Not that he talked much with her about anything different than school-paper articles or debate themes, but he was sure nonetheless.</p><p>It seemed like this term something had shifted in the classroom. There were, of course, the new kids, some twelve, thirteen-year-olds the older group never paid much attention to and who kept mostly to themselves. But maybe because the bulk of them, who had been together for many years (many even since the small-kids classroom), were about to finish school, something in the atmosphere shifted.</p><p>Suddenly it was not just the boys and the girls making fun of and teasing each other. The girls no longer seemed to think every boy was ridiculous and the boys had changed their perception of the girls as well. It wasn't something completely new: he recalled Charlie's story about the spin the bottle game. However, this wasn't so much about foolish kissing games but real interest in the others. As in, courting. After all, they were no longer girls and boys. Not really. They were women and men, even if young ones.</p><p>A bunch of them were going to Queens, himself included, but it seemed like almost everyone, without any regard to their education or being only fifteen, sixteen (Gilbert knew for a fact he was the oldest), wanted to find a spouse. They made every possible effort to be noticed, but at the same time, didn't want to appear explicit in that effort. Anne didn't seem to pay much attention to the whole business, daydreaming the afternoons away, and that comforted Gilbert a little.</p><p>It was around those days when someone stupidly decided to revive the ridiculous take-notice board, that had been quiet and forgotten for some years now. Why would someone do that? It seemed vulgar and insensitive to Gilbert, and he tried to ignore the group of classmates reading the little notes excitedly. He managed to do so for the first few days, not acknowledging any comment the guys said to him and changing the subject. The misses didn't seem to dare ask him anything, and he was glad. They could keep it this way, for all he was concerned.</p><p>And then Anne went to talk to him about the bloody thing. Of course, it had to be her. Gilbert didn't understand the reason she was being so forthcoming, especially given her apparent lack of interest in the general world of… well, courting, and was taken aback. He didn't dare connect the points as she explained the mechanics of something he already understood and didn't truly approve of. It's not that he didn't know the concept, it's just that he would never have taken her for the kind of woman who would fall for this game. And even when he decided to try and court her he would never start by posting a notice for everyone to see. Unless she wanted him to, that was. Even if it was childish.</p><p>"...to someone you like?" Gilbert answered rhetorically after her explanation, his eyebrows as questioning as his tone, trying to read in between the lines. Did she want him to post? <em>Like, seriously, Anne? </em>"A post in advance of a proper advance?" he asked again, translating her words as she explained some more. He looked at her, really looked, trying to see if there was something in that situation that was worth anything. Anne just looked so, <em>so</em> uncomfortable, but that didn't keep her for continuing to ramble. "To their future together?" he concluded for her, giving her a most meaningful look and almost losing himself and his breath at the same moment. She nodded, no more words. Finally quiet. He felt his heart skip a beat. He braced himself, throwing caution to the wind and yet completely confused about this whole endeavour. "So… you're suggesting I post?", he asked directly, trying to end this conversation fast, now. Before she said anything else. He didn't want this at school. Not here, with everyone around them. Most probably looking.</p><p>"If you're interested in Ruby you should let her know before someone else takes their claim" she answered very very quickly, so quickly that he didn't even register it at first and just looked confused at her. Then he felt like something was breaking inside him. He took a couple of deep breaths. Too much, too quickly, he repeated himself, as he had done since Christmas, feeling deflated and even more confused. Hadn't there been something in her eyes that had led him to…?</p><p>"Thank you… for the suggestion. I'm not really a take notice kind of guy" he began, forcing himself to give a somewhat honest answer "and when the right person comes along, someday, whenever that is, I'll know" he finished, looking at her in the eyes. Meaning her. Soon (he hoped). Well, if she was interested in the least, which apparently she wasn't because she was just throwing Ruby in front of him. She went stiffly back to her desk and he just stood there, stunned. What in the world had just happened? Ruby looked at him full of hope and he was even more confused.</p><p>"Did you see his face when you were talking about me?" he heard the blonde girl say. Well, he didn't know Anne was trying to talk to him about Ruby Gillis, of all people. He thought she was asking for herself. The conversation would have gone very differently if she had mentioned the blonde girl from the beginning. "His eyes were so full of romance I must have died right there and then" The small girl continued. Well, someone had noticed. Why was Anne so… And then he felt Diana's look on him and he looked down and grabbed his book just to do something. Shoot, he thought a few minutes later as he tried to focus on the words for real. It was backwards.</p><hr/><p>"What's on your mind, Gilbert?" Mary asked him later that evening. He was reading, in theory, but he was really just watching the fire, the book forgotten, open on his lap. Thinking about the day's events. About Anne's words concerning her lineage. About the printing press. About… Well, if he was being honest, he was just thinking about the stupid board. And her look. When class was dismissed, she had just made him turn to stare at him and mumble "eyes"? What in the…?</p><p>"Just something stupid" he sighed. Maybe he was just trying to see too much where there honestly was nothing.</p><p>"Can't be that stupid if you can't take it off your mind" she pointed.</p><p>"It's just… I had the most surreal conversation with Anne today. And I can't shake it off" he said. Mary looked at him, as if telling him to continue. She was walking with Delly around the living room and then she went beside him, as the baby seemed to have fallen asleep. A tiny bundle.</p><p>"Want to carry her? She always seems so happy when you hold her" he extended his arms willingly, as he loved baby Delly and couldn't get his fill of her. He wanted dearly one of his own. Ideally redhaired. They stayed in silence for a moment, Mary massaging her temples as she sat next to him, who was looking at Delphine's sleepy little face.</p><p>"They revived a stupid board at school. They call it the "take notice" board. Should be called the gossip board if you ask me, but anyway. Supposedly is to post advances of proper advances" he finally said, after some minutes.</p><p>"What?!" Mary exclaimed quietly but in utter disbelief, and then stifled a laugh not to wake the baby.</p><p>"I know! It's stupid! But everyone can't stop posting and looking and telling everyone about who's walking who home and when, who looked at whom in class... Ridiculous" the whole thing just put him in a bad mood. More even so after today.</p><p>"And this has to do with Anne…" Mary prompted, and then looked at him. "Please tell me you didn't put something in there Gilbert. She deserves better"</p><p>"Of course I didn't. I just wouldn't do it there. It's absurd. But then, you know how she's been all weird with me the past few weeks?" Mary nodded, as she had talked with Gilbert about that subject before. "Well, today she decided it was a perfect day to talk to me. About the stupid board."</p><p>"Oh, my" Mary said, just fearing the rest.</p><p>"Yes. So there she is, explaining the mechanics of this thing as if I didn't know them already. Everyone does. I just choose not to participate in it. But I stupidly started thinking, maybe she's interested that I post? Could she want that?" He looks at Mary. "I know it's stupid. It was a foolish thought. But she carried on and on, and I just asked her, to confirm, if she meant it as an advance. For the future. Together" he said, his voice trailing off to an even quieter tone than was necessary when they were just whispering as not to wake Delphine.</p><p>"Oh, Gilbert" she had a face that transmitted how sorry and conflicted she felt about the situation. It was just good he had a sleeping Delly on his lap or he would be pacing and thrashing.</p><p>"She just said yes. It was… I was so confused, Mary. I would never have taken her for the kind of gal who would want that thing. She hasn't seemed interested in the least in all this courting business, while the rest of the class seem to think it's now or never… Anyway, I absurdly felt hope. Like, why else would she ask me? What other possibility there was?" he continued, forcing himself, and then looked at his sister, who was looking at him with sad eyes. Why was everything just so hard some days? He felt a knot in her throat. "So I just asked her. If she was suggesting that I post. Because really, what could have been the purpose of the conversation otherwise?" Mary nodded sadly. "And then she starts talking about me getting my intentions for <em>Ruby Gillis</em> known and…" he couldn't help but spat the name of the blonde girl, but then his voice just broke, and he stared at the calm little face of Delphine. At least she didn't have to deal with all of this yet. He felt a tear escaping and felt Mary's arm holding him. He rested his head on her shoulder as some tears managed to escape.</p><p>"I mean, I know it's naive on my part to just hope that anything I've done for the past three years counts for something. She's never even shown the slightest interest. I've never even made any intention clear because of a stupid promise. But…maybe it's time to admit she just won't ever look at me that way?"</p><p>"Oh no, Gilbert" Mary soothed him. "That girl likes you more than even she realizes. Just go one step at a time and for goodness sake ignore that board and your classmates" Gilbert chuckled sadly. Apparently, he had gotten himself tangled up in that mess just by not wishing to participate.</p><p>"She's turning sixteen in two weeks, you know?" he said after a while.</p><p>"Ooooh, the big birthday!" Mary exclaimed, forgetting the sleeping baby, and then put a hand over her mouth as Delly squirmed. "What are you giving her?"</p><p>"I have no idea. Half of me just wants to ignore her and her birthday exactly as she ignores me every single day, except to ask me cryptic questions, but I know it's just a childish impulse. So I'm not going through with that and need an actual present" he answered. And Mary laughed. "Hey, I might be eighteen but I'm not <em>that</em> stupid."</p><p>"I know you're not. It's merely funny to see how conscious you are about your thought process" Gilbert made a noise. "I'm serious, Gilbert! I have no idea how but you have a maturity that's way beyond your years" she assured him, taking the squirming baby off him. Delly was fully awake now, trying to search for some food on Gilbert's chest. Where there was never going to be anything, really.</p><p>Well, he did know why he seemed to be a bit more mature than his peers. Between caring for his father, travelling with him and then working on the docks and the steamer there really had been no option other than to grow up, get to know and take care of himself. Oh, and managing the farms and the trade of its produce with Bash. And then his internship, where he saw all kinds of things. And school, with the extra study for Queens. He looked at Delphine, who looked at her mother with wide eyes. Where had his childhood gone? How had he managed to do all of this?</p><p>"Anyway," he said, changing the subject "I have no idea what to give her. Precisely like she said this morning, I don't want to be so pointed as to be alarming but neither so vague that it's not understood." Mary raised an eyebrow. "Those were her <em>actual words.</em> Honestly, I was paying attention to every word she said. But anyway, especially with how she's been lately. I don't want to cross her anymore" he rubbed his eyes as he stifled a yawn. He was tired but still needed to finish some things that night.</p><p>Anne seemed a bit upset about her history, noticeable only by the way she had diverted the attention with her good use for words. He was sure his classmates hadn't noticed, maybe just Diana and definitely Miss Stacy. And there was no way he could help with that, at least not now. He wanted to give her a future with him, but there was little he could do about her past other than to be by her side. And him being by her side was not something she seemed fond of the past weeks. Even if she were, that wasn't a birthday present.</p><p>"I just don't want to give her something trivial," he said. "It's like the book I gave her for Christmas. That's something only she would appreciate. Or the tiny dictionary the other year."</p><p>"Well, something about her passions, then. But maybe, no more books? You know her better than most" he scoffed. If only that were true. That would be Diana and even Cole, who was back in Charlottetown. And he certainly wasn't going to ask Diana for gift ideas. He could just imagine how that conversation would go. "Well, I know some of them" Mary continued. "She likes to cook, otherwise she wouldn't have wanted for me to give her lessons. She loves knowing things about the world, exotic places, things like that. Have you seen how she stares every time she's around and you're talking with Bash about Trinidad or some other port?" he shook his head. He honestly hadn't noticed. "You told me she's editor in chief, so she must be fond of writing, maybe a pen?"</p><p>"She has the best pen in the class. I have no idea where she got it" he said. "Maybe a good, sturdy notebook? Or something to put the recipes in?" ideas started flowing. What about he took her to the tiny library where he usually found the books he gifted her? He knew she had been to Charlottetown a couple of times, but almost always on a mission: be it sell all the goods from the farm or buy all the inventory the town had in lightbulbs. Maybe she would like to go, just to walk and to know the city? Have something for lunch? Spend the day with him? "How about I ask Marilla and Matthew if I can take her to Charlottetown for the day, and I take her to the library so she can pick a book? I could always give her something else, but that would be an adventure for her and she's so fond of them..." he said, excited for the first time in the whole day.</p><p>"That doesn't fall in the "too forward to be alarming" category, or whatever it was?" Mary asked, skeptical.</p><p>"Right. So, maybe just the notebook or some fine papers…" he said, a bit deflated.</p><hr/><p>Next Saturday he asked Dr. Ward to let him out a bit early, explaining he wanted to find a gift. The new cleaner miss (form an affluent family, it seemed, probably just looking for a way to pass the time) had looked interested at him and he just ignored her, as usual. She was pretty, and seemed nice enough, but paled in comparison to his Anne. Her attention towards him sometimes was reminiscent of a more mature and subtle high society Ruby Gillis.</p><p>He went to the center of town, where he knew were all the stores, and wandered around looking at the different showcases. He finally entered a store where they sold notebooks of varying qualities and found one perfect for her, after looking at all the selection.</p><p>"Is this a gift, young man?" the vendor asked him when he finally picked one with leather and tinted paper cover that seemed to be the canopy of Avonlea's forest by the way the greens and browns mixed. He nodded, smiling. "May I suggest a fountain pen to go with it?"</p><p>"She actually has one, already" he answered. "But it leaks sometimes and I know she gets frustrated with that. Do a non-leaky pen even exist?" he asked like he was asking about a flying horse. If such a thing existed, he would get her one.</p><p>"Well, it's 1899, young man!" the vendor answered cheerfully, going to retrieve a couple of small boxes. Gilbert looked at him, surprise in his eyes. "Here, we have these models, fresh from the factory. They have what they call Jack-Knife Safety, it's guaranteed not leak-able. We have both men's and women's models" he said, opening the boxes. Gilbert took one, examining it. Black with gold engravings making small flowers, it was heavy and felt solid, even when it was the smallest of the selection.</p><p>"Do you have one I can try?" he asked. The vendor took one from under the counter and some paper to scribble on. It felt nice, went on very smoothly, unlike his pen. Apparently, it wouldn't leak. Gilbert thought she would like it. "Perfect, I'll take this too" He looked as the man went behind the counter to pack both things. "Oh, please don't pack it. I will do so at home". He wanted to write her something inside the book. After paying, he put everything in his case and was just in time for the afternoon train.</p><hr/><p>"Mary!" he called as he went inside. "Found it!" he said triumphantly. Bash came out to meet him, silencing him with a gesture. Wide-eyed, he shut up and followed him to the living room, leaving behind the rooms' area.</p><p>"Sorry. We just managed to put Delly to sleep. She seems to be having colic or something, and has been crying the whole afternoon" he explained, talking normally as they entered the living room. Where Anne was sitting. He looked at her, blinking.</p><p>"What did you found?" she asked as if it was completely normal for her to be there and not something she hadn't done since Christmas. Although he had no idea if she went regularly on Saturdays when he wasn't around, now…</p><p>"Eh… my hat?" He said stupidly, taking it off. Mary laughed like it was the best joke ever. "So, how you're doing? All ready for the big day?" he asked Anne, as Mary continued laughing hysterically, joined by Bash who seemed to think the situation was hilarious, and he just ignored them. Anne was there and she had spoken civilly to him. Maybe there was a chance to change the bad tide they were in.</p><p>"Oh yes! I'm so sure everything will change once I welcome adulthood! It's a most important moment!" She answered happily. Gilbert smiled brightly. It was nice seeing her like that. He took off his scarf (the one she had knitted and that he had used so much this winter it was a running joke around the house), bag and coat, putting everything on the back of a chair.</p><p>"Any plans, yet?" he asked, sitting close to the fire, away from her.</p><p>"Not really…" she made a slight face, as if something wasn't right, but changed it quickly. "Diana has something to do with her family, so we'll only see each other on Sunday. And you know Marilla and Matthew, they're not the celebrating kind" she said. Gilbert nodded, thinking. He genuinely thought she really should celebrate. He looked at Mary and she seemed to pick up the idea.</p><p>"Well, why don't you come with them for dinner? I'm sure Bash will cook crab callaloo if Gilbert manages to get hold of a couple, and I'll bake your favourite for desert" she invited. Anne's face brightened with illusion.</p><p>"Would you really do that?" she asked, looking at the three of them. Bash accepted immediately and Gilbert smiled fondly at her.</p><p>"With all our pleasure," he said, just in case there was any doubt. "I'll send word to Dr. Ward so he doesn't expect me next Saturday, and I'll find some crabs. Season must be starting. You'll have a proper birthday dinner" he stretched on the sofa, tired from the day. He rubbed his eyes. "So, Bash, what did you think about the other cow?" he asked his brother, remembering a conversation they had started in the morning. Anne looked at him weirdly and then started talking with Mary. He was all about talking with her, but he felt everything was still somehow weird after the notice board business and especially Christmas, and didn't want to appear too eager. Slow and steady, Blythe, he thought.</p><p>"I'll take off, now," Anne said after a while. Gilbert debated on offering to go with her, but it was only dusk. But... he could always make the excuse to talk with Marilla and Matthew about next Saturday's dinner, couldn't he?</p><p>"May I go with you?" he asked politely, not as in it's too late for you to wander alone, but as in I'd like to walk with you, only if you don't mind. At least that's how he tried to ask. She looked at him as if debating. "Only so I can properly invite the Cuthberts next Saturday. It has nothing to do with escorting you, even if I wouldn't mind doing so" he explained. She frowned, then smiled with a tiny smile.</p><p>"Let's go then. Don't forget your hat" she said, referring to his prior comment, and going to the parlour to put on her coat. He shook his head as he got up.</p><p>"I won't take long. I can also ask Matthew if he knows about someone selling a cow" he said the others, who just ushered him. He grabbed a lantern for the walk back.</p><hr/><p>"I really like your article on the Mi'kmaqs," he said after a while. They were walking calmly, in companionable silence, as they used to do some months back. She looked at him.</p><p>"I absolutely enjoyed talking with them. They're so sage. Everyone speaks of them as savages, but… they're just like us" she finally said. "It was so eye-opening. So, so interesting" she added after a while as if she was lost in thought. "They have this whole different concept of family I found fascinating. Got me thinking about my own"</p><p>"Marilla and Matthew?" He asked.</p><p>"Well, yes and no. More about how I am different from them. Not that we don't love each other dearly, because we do, but more about…" she trailed off, and Gilbert looked at her. "Never mind, you wouldn't be interested in my rambling. I talk too much, Marilla has told me countless times" she said quickly.</p><p>"Well, I do… mind. I care" he said softly, looking ahead, not daring to meet her eyes, but feeling them fixed in him. He sighed. "I have no idea what goes on your mind most days, Anne, but I do care for you" he admitted finally in a low, soft voice. She stayed in silence.</p><p>"I do, as well. For you" she said after a moment. Gilbert wanted to stop right then and there and shake her. Why was she so difficult all the time, then? Why the mood swings? Why ignore him half the time and ask him cryptic questions about the stupid board? But he didn't say anything and just looked ahead.</p><p>"I don't understand you" he finally said, very quietly, more sad and confused than anything. He longed for her. It was a constant hollow inside him. They were coming out of the woods by now, Green Gables on view. She didn't answer anything else until they arrived at her house.</p><p>"Thank you for walking with me" he concluded as they got through the gate, as it was evident there was not going to be an answer from her or an end to their conversation. He smiled warmly, albeit a bit sad. She looked at him, eyes wide like the other day when she just stared at him at the end of the school day.</p><p>"I'm sorry" she blurted out. He frowned slightly, now even more confused about everything, waiting for her to continue. But she didn't say anything else and resumed her walk towards the house, a brisker pace. He sighed (it seemed a recurring theme nowadays) and followed her after closing the gate.</p><p>When they arrived, Marilla went out to greet them, cleaning her hands on her apron. "Gilbert! What a nice surprise!" she exclaimed. He greeted her. "Do you want to stay for supper? I'm just starting to organize it."</p><p>"Thanks, Marilla. They're actually waiting for me back home" he said, declining the invitation. Anne went inside and started setting up the dinner table accordingly. They followed her. He might not stay for dinner, but he still wanted to have a quick word about dinner next Saturday. Ideally where it wasn't so cold.</p><p>"Oh, some tea at least, it seems these days I only see Mary and dear Delphine but never you and dear Bash" she insisted. That much was true, he thought. With the baby and the rush they had all been in, they seemed to have suspended their weekend lunches. Anne looked at them, unsure about placing another cup.</p><p>"Ok, then. But I must not be too long" he finally accepted. They would probably tease him but understand. "I want to talk with Matthew about something. Is he around?"</p><p>"At the barn. If you want to fetch him we'll finish setting up here" he nodded and went back outside. Matthew was just finishing as he arrived. He greeted him.</p><p>"Long time no see, Gilbert," he said. "Let me just finish here. Everything alright?" Gilbert went and helped him with what he was doing. Four hands got a job done quicker than two.</p><p>"Yeah, everything's good. Anne was at my place and I was just accompanying her back here" he explained. Matthew nodded. "But actually, I meant to ask you if you know of someone selling a milking cow?" he asked. "We will need one sooner rather than later, with little Delphine"</p><p>"Oh yes. Children are little calves. Our Anne too, even if she's grown now" he said. Gilbert smiled fondly. He would have never taken her as the milk drinking kind, but now that Matthew said that he recalled her having milk every time they had eaten at the Cuthbert's. She still took it for lunch at school, even when most of their classmates had changed to water by now. His smile didn't go unnoticed by Matthew. "You take care of her now, Gilbert. We trust you" he said, cleaning his hands with a rag.</p><p>"Thank you, Matthew. I fully intend to do so" he said earnestly, looking at him in the eyes. The older man nodded. He wasn't as wordy as Marilla, but Gilbert understood that this was reminiscent of the conversation he had with the older woman back on Thanksgiving.</p><p>"Let's go, then. Marilla must be impatient be now" they went to the door. "So, about that milking cow. I haven't heard of anyone selling one, but I'll put a word out for you and keep you posted, alright?" he said, as they walked towards the house.</p><p>"Thank you, I truly appreciate it" they took their boots off and went inside. It smelled nice, but he remembered he had said he wouldn't be long. He washed his hands next to Matthew and took his place next to Anne, in front of a lone cup of tea. She was having milk, and it made him smile.</p><p>"You're sure you don't want anything with that, Gilbert?" Marilla asked one more time. "Oh, have something. I'm sure they will understand" she insisted, and went for a dish to the cupboard before he could give an answer. He thanked her, not having another option.</p><p>"So, we wanted to invite the three of you next Saturday for dinner," he said when they were mid-dinner. Both siblings looked at him and Anne's eyes were fixed on her plate. "We want to celebrate Anne's birthday, and Bash will even cook some crab" he explained, smiling.</p><p>"Well, it's very nice that you thought of her birthday. And we can't say no to his crab" said Marilla. "Thank you for the invitation, Gilbert. It is really kind. I guess you already knew about it, Anne?"</p><p>"They mentioned it before we came here," she said, now smiling a bit. "Oh, if only Diana didn't have to go to Charlottetown it would be the most spectacular birthday ever" she exclaimed, excited and sad at the same time. Gilbert smiled, as did the Cuthberts.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. March</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following week seemed to fly by. The notice board seemed to be losing a bit of its novelty, something for which he was glad. Only a small group of followers kept looking daily at it, but many seemed to have established their claim and be happy with it. Ruby continued ogling at him sporadically and he made a point in ignoring her at all times, same as he had done for the past eight years. Schoolwork was hard but satisfying, he had managed to help Bash every morning and afternoon in the farm chores and stay on top of the accounting and his side readings while he took care of Delly at nights. Finally Saturday, he chose some warm clothes (the weather was terribly cold these days) and went out early in the morning. He hoped to find some crabs in Avonlea but was almost sure he would have to go to at least to Carmody.</p><p>"Ok then, I'll be off," he said when he was ready, adjusting his scarf. Mary and Bash were having breakfast, Delly in her moses basket beside them. "I hope to be back not too late, but it depends on where I have to go to get some" he was almost by the door when he turned back again. "When should I give her her present?" he asked the couple. He had been giving this matter thought on and off ever since he secured the gift, but now was unsure. "It's just… I wouldn't want to give it to her with everyone watching" he explained, his ears burning.</p><p>'I'm guessing Anne being Anne, she will want to stay longer than Marilla and Matthew. And Marilla did mention something yesterday, about getting up early today to make her a special breakfast. You can always offer to take her back" Mary proposed. He nodded.</p><p>"She'll have my head for trying to interfere with her independence and ability to care for herself, but it's worth a try. Or am I crazy? Should I just give it to her when she comes? And be done with it?"</p><p>"No, Blythe. You look for the right time, ok? Now <em>go</em>, those crabs are not crawling here on their own!" Bash ushered him. He was on his way when he crossed first Ruby in a buggy with her father, and then with Tillie in a similar fashion. He greeted them and continued his way, thinking about what could bring them to this side of town. There was only Barry's estate, apart from Green Gables and his own house. Then he thought of the little smiles the Cuthberts had the other night when Anne lamented Diana's business on her birthday and went on his way humming. Oh, Anne surely was going to have a birthday to remember.</p><p>Gilbert was so fixed on getting the crabs Anne loved so much for dinner he went all the way to the beach that was two hours north of Carmody, after tracing them down from one vendor to another. It seemed like they were not fully in season yet. The seafood merchant of Carmody's market was right on something: if there was going to be a crab this Saturday, it would be arriving when Mr. Rogers got back from the sea. So he followed his directions down to the fisherman's hut, where his wife told him he hadn't come back yet but should be soon enough.</p><p>At some point in the early afternoon, the small boat arrived, full of cages. Many of them empty. He helped Mr. Rogers unload, as he was famished and in a hurry to take off, and selected most of its catch, paying gratefully for it. Securing them on the horse, he went back to Carmody and bought some fish and chips to eat while riding back home. It was already very late.</p><p>He entered the house at dusk, when it was almost dark, feeling as tired as if he had gone to the sea to catch the crabs. Bash and Mary were waiting for him, half dinner already advanced, concerned looks in their eyes. Delly was sleeping in her bassinet.</p><p>"Everything went well?" asked Mary, worried. "We thought you would be here much earlier"</p><p>"Turns out crab season is late this year. I had to go way past Carmody to get hold of these, and then only because I managed to find the fisherman before anyone else" Gilbert said as he left them on the sink. "Is it horrible on my part if I go to lie down for a bit? My back is killing me" He couldn't remember last time it had hurt as bad, but it must have been in the early days on the steamer. Since travelling to Alberta with his father, he hadn't spent a full day on horseback. He stretched a bit. Maybe riding the whole day hadn't been the smartest idea, but he did know it was Anne's favourite dish. "I promise I'll wash all the dishes tonight"</p><p>"Just go and wash, Blythe, and stop whining. You don't have time for a nap now, it's late" Bash told him, cleaning the crabs quickly and efficiently. Gilbert gave him a thankful pat in the shoulder, laughing and went to his room. Looking at his watch he realized Bash was right, they only had the time to cook the crabs and the Cuthberts would be arriving at any minute. He stripped down and washed quickly, taking off the dirt of the road, changing into fresh clothes. He was thankful for having selected them before. His nice shirt with the cufflinks, a vest and some nice trousers. He was going down, hair still wet, just when the Cuthberts arrived.</p><hr/><p>"Of course I don't mind escorting Anne to Miss Blythe's house" he answered, and Anne smiled brightly at him. For someone who hated being chaperoned, she looked beaming. He smiled at her. "As I told you, I go to Charlottetown most Saturdays anyway. It's with pleasure" he assured them.</p><p>Crab had turned out great, given Bash's talent for cooking and its freshness (he was pretty sure some were still alive by the time he arrived at the farm) and everyone looked content. They were finishing dessert, Mary's cake with some preserves from last summer, accompanied by some cordial they had around. Anne had gingerly declined it, mumbling something about distrusting alcohol, and Gilbert almost laughed but contained himself in time. She couldn't still be hung up on that? Could that be what still had her acting weird?</p><p>"Actually, Anne," he said after a moment, without really thinking it through. Mary looked at him from the other side of the table, shaking her head only slightly as if to tell him to stop when he could. "I was meaning to ask you if you wanted to go one Saturday. I wanted to show you the library where I got the fairytale book I got you for Christmas" he said. Mary's eyes were as big as plates, but no one seemed to notice. Anne looked at him as if trying to gauge something. "I know you have plans this Saturday, but any other," he said, as she didn't answer, and was starting to think his friend's look had been right (<em>too much, too fast, Blythe,</em> he scolded himself) when she answered.</p><p>"Well, you know I love to go on adventures, but…" she turned to look at Marilla and Matthew.</p><p>"You can go, Anne. With Gilbert. He's a sensible young man. We just don't like you wandering alone in Charlottetown," Matthew said hurriedly and Marilla smiled. It seemed like some tension was lifted from the table as Delly started crying. Mary stood up to retrieve her and excused herself. The poor baby had been suffering from colics for some weeks now and there was nothing they had managed to do to help. Even Anne, who had more experience with babies than all of them together, had run out of ideas. And that was something.</p><p>"Great. Just let me know when" he said, smiling, trying to look as if it was the most normal thing to do. He wouldn't pressure her for this. The invitation was there, standing, for whenever she wanted it. With Matthew and Marilla's approval. "Does anyone want some tea?" he asked, changing the subject as he got up.</p><p>"Thank you, Gilbert. We actually should get going," Marilla answered, looking pointedly at Matthew.</p><p>"Yes, yes, should get going," he said, getting up. Marilla stood up as well and Anne frowned at them, remaining firmly seated, crossing her arms. It was a comical look. However, it <em>really</em> was early, Gilbert thought. Like, not even ten.</p><p>"Are you sure, Marilla, Matthew?" Bash asked, clearly of the same opinion as Anne. They were all enjoying the evening and it felt as if it was cut short. "Mary won't be long."</p><p>"Oh, Bash, it's just we've been up since early this morning," Marilla explained. "We were just preparing a special breakfast for Anne and you know she's an early riser." Well, he didn't know that, considering the only time she had slept in the same house as him she had been hungover.</p><p>"It was the most perfect breakfast," she assured him and he smiled, and then she turned to her mother. "But do we absolutely have to go now, Marilla?" Gilbert was just looking at the exchange from the door, as he had intended to go put on the kettle. He liked to have some tea after dinner.</p><p>"Well, Matthew and I do. You're free to stay, provided…"</p><p>"Blythe can take her home" Bash interrupted while picking up the dessert dishes. Gilbert was pretty sure he had winked. <em>Really, Bash? Was it necessary?</em> "Can't you, Blythe? Or she can stay until tomorrow," he added, as he walked to the kitchen. Of course. Dropping that and disappearing. So Bash.</p><p>"Put the kettle on, will you?" he told Bash as he passed by him. Then he turned to the Cuthberts "I have no plans for tonight. Anne can stay as long as she wishes or you allow, and I'll bring her back to you," he explained. He then turned at the redhead "You're welcome to stay for as long as you want, really." Anne looked at Marilla, as if pleading her, and she nodded.</p><p>"I'll walk you out," he said to the siblings and accompanied them to the door. Anne stood up and went by the fireplace.</p><p>"Thank you for having her for a bit longer, Gilbert," Marilla said when they were by the door, just the three of them. "She was really happy about dinner tonight, as a perfect closing for the celebrations, but we're just so tired now. We're not used to staying late this much. It certainly isn't necessary that you stay up late on her accord, when you're tired just bring her home. We honestly don't want to intrude"</p><p>"It is absolutely not a problem. I enjoy it very much when she visits, and I know Bash and Mary do as well. And I'm chronically sleep-deprived, so it won't make any difference," he said sincerely. Matthew gave him a pat on the arm and Marilla hugged him, and they were out. He was about to close the door when Matthew turned back.</p><p>"If you truly have no inconvenience, let her… let her stay the night. I know you were out all day and you look tired even if you won't admit it. It's not fair to you that you have to wander in the freezing weather just because of her" Marilla looked at her brother for a moment, astonished. Matthew looked at her, and some silent communication must have gone between them because then she said:</p><p>"Matthew is right, Gilbert. We trust you, Mary and Bash, and know you will take care of her." He looked at them, stunned. This wasn't an extraordinary situation as it had been at Christmas. This could very well be Anne staying in his house for the night, deciding it in her full five senses.</p><p>"I thank you for your trust. But how can I let you know…?"</p><p>"We will know when we wake up in the morning. She's either coming with you or staying here, and both options are equally safe. Don't you worry about that," Marilla said. Gilbert frowned and nodded. They went, for good this time. He stood there a moment and then went to the kitchen. Bash was singing and washing the dishes.</p><p>"I've got this, Blythe, now go. Laid it out in a silver platter for you and everything," Bash said. Gilbert chuckled and picked the package he had left under his folded scarf. Just in case. He put it in the tray Bash had already prepared with the tea and four cups (they would likely join them, for what he understood) and looked back at Bash, who was singing an old Trinidadian song while he washed the dishes. Delly was still crying in the background.</p><p>"It's possible that she spends the night here. In my father's room," he only clarified because he knew he would get teased otherwise, and went on his way.</p><hr/><p>She was still in front of the fire, her hair shining in one lone braid as it reflected the warm lights, her back towards the door. He stood there for a moment, just looking at her. He blinked a couple of times to refocus himself and went to lay the tray on the coffee table. She turned in that moment and frowned when she saw it.</p><p>"Tea? It was an actual offer, before" he said. She nodded and he calmly served two cups (hers, two sugars, loads of cream), ignoring the package for the moment. He could see she was burning with curiosity, but he kind of wanted to savour this moment and knew Bash would buy him some time. He could still hear Delphine´s muffled cries on the back, anyway. He grabbed her cup and gave it to her and then sat on the sofa, taking his (no sugar, no cream).</p><p>Anne stood there, looking at him, taking a sip, thinking. Gilbert drank as well and looked at her. For a few minutes, none said anything. He didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off of her blue ones and she apparently was in the same trouble. Finally, he was able to clear his throat and left his half-full cup on the table. She blinked and looked away.</p><p>"So, was your sixteenth everything you expected it to be?" he asked. She nodded. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, at a loss of words? Oh, my. He smiled boyishly. "Seemed pretty great, from what I heard" he continued, as it became evident she wasn't going to say anything. He felt like his heart was about to explode, so hard was it beating.</p><p>"It is. It-it was" she finally said, and went to sit on the sofa. Next to him, but not too close. He bent over again, thinking about taking his cup again, but decided not to prolong this any longer and grabbed the present.</p><p>"Anyway…" he said, looking at the fabric he had tied with a ribbon Mary had given him. "Clearly I don't have your packing talents, but it is will all my affection" it was all he could do not to tell her it was with love, but… He just gave it to her, looking her in the eyes. "Happy birthday, Anne-girl" he smiled, fondly, as she took it with a shaky hand and put it on her lap.</p><p>"Should I…?" she asked, looking at him.</p><p>"It's your present. You can open it whenever you like" she smiled and squeaked a little, suddenly very excited. She undid the bow and lifted the fabric very carefully. Her eyes opened wide as she saw what was inside.</p><p>"Gilbert, you didn't…" she said, taking the pen off the box and admiring it. She looked at him, mouth agape, not knowing what to say.</p><p>"It's supposed to have something against leaks. Let me know if it works, I'm very curious myself" he explained.</p><p>"It looks so strong, yet delicate" she murmured, admiring it as she turned it to see the engraving of tiny flowers. "I do wonder how it writes. I imagine it will be so smooth." she looked smiling at Gilbert. He just shrugged. She would have to see it for herself. He had thought it was smooth at the store, but there again his comparison was with his regular pen and not the fancy one she owned. "Do you have some paper?" she asked, full of illusion. She was so excited about the pen she hadn't even seen the rest of the present. He raised his eyebrows as if it was obvious.</p><p>"Paper?" he asked, as apparently, it wasn't. Anne looked at him, getting a bit impatient. "Did you see the rest, or did the shiny new pen blinded you?" he asked softly, mocking her just a bit, as he chuckled, signalling her lap. She opened even more her eyes and smiled even more brightly as she took the book.</p><p>"It's like the…" she looked at him and he nodded. She opened it and her eyes landed on the short note he had written some days ago with his own, scratchy pen.</p><p>
  <em>So you can write down your new adventures. x, Gilbert.</em>
</p><p>"Gilbert…" she looked at him, evidently not knowing what to say, or even what to think. He cut her short because he could tell she was about to start rambling. And he didn't want a rambling Anne right now, it had been enough with the notice board business.</p><p>"I genuinely hope you enjoy them, Anne. They're a birthday present and they don't have to be anything else, eh?" he said, in a reassuring voice, looking at her in the eyes. "I told you some weeks ago. I care for you. This is just a way of showing it," Gilbert concluded, taking his gaze away and bending over to grab his cup, resting his arms on his legs and getting them effectively out of the way. God knows what he would do if he didn't occupy his hands with something and retired himself a little from the situation. He drank a little. It was almost cold. He didn't care as it was the only thing guarding whatever propriety was left at the moment. Which probably would be in a negative record by Mrs. Lynde's standards. Now he absolutely needed Bash to come for his tea and then to take Anne home, as he was sure he would end up kissing her if she gave her another look like that. And he didn't want to scare her further.</p><p>Anne didn't say anything. Gilbert kept drinking his tea, more as a way to occupy himself than because he wanted what was left, feeling the silence thicken. He had basically laid out his heart right there, and he was becoming acutely aware now that Anne didn't care the least bit for it. How could she, if she wasn't even able to answer anything? He sighed.</p><p>"Gil…" she said, with the tiniest voice. He tried looking at her, really tried, but in the end, just closed his eyes.</p><p>"It's fine, Anne," he said, dryly. When had this happy moment turned so sour?</p><p>"I'm sorry I don't know what to say" she continued. "I'm just… I'm trying to learn who I am, where I come from, and I'm so, so confused with everything right now," she was talking with frustration now, and he could actually tell that maybe her lack of reaction was not because she didn't care, but maybe because she truly had no idea what she was feeling. And that was something he could deal with, given time.</p><p>He remembered Mary's words: <em>that girl likes you more than even she realizes</em>. It was just not the moment for her. And what could he say? Had he truly thought that the day she turned sixteen a magic spell would be broken and she would run to his arms? No, that's when he was supposed to start thinking about courting her. To see if she was interested. Nothing was granted. A weight lifted from his shoulders when he realized that, and he decided to focus on what he could control, for now.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure these days I'm not the one you have in mind to tell your worries," he said, slowly. Anne stayed silent, not denying it, and he forced himself to continue. "But I want you to know you can count on me like you already have before. I won't go anywhere. You can vent, I can help you look for whatever you need, you name it. Just let me know" she still didn't say anything, so he turned to look at her and rested his back on the sofa. His back especially was killing him and he didn't know how to sit to make it better. Anne was looking at him. He ventured to go a bit further "I saw the other day in class that Miss Stacy asked you to her office after the whole genealogy business. I saw you were upset. Maybe we can look for something. A church registry, the families you lived with before coming here..."</p><p>"That's my quest," she said like he would know what she was referring to. Gilbert frowned "in Charlottetown? You agreed to escort me?" he nodded slightly, connecting the dots.</p><p>"I'm sure it will be fruitful," he said. "Have you already asked Cole about going?"</p><p>"I sent him a letter today. I think he'll say yes, aunt Josephine won't mind and I haven't seen either of them for ages," she answered. He nodded.</p><p>"That's great. It's good that you can keep in contact with him even when he's not in school anymore." Gilbert didn't know why, but he didn't felt threatened in the least by the other boy. "So it's settled. I'll accompany you for the first part of the journey and Cole for the next one. But, Anne, I'm serious. If any other day you need to go to Charlottetown or elsewhere, count on me." Anne smiled to him. Having changed the subject, she looked much more at ease.</p><p>"Thanks, Gilbert," she said. They stayed silent for a few minutes. She was examining the pen and the book carefully and he closed his eyes for a moment, much more relaxed now. He could do this. He could help her find herself. "I think this one will be called the Pen of Potential" she declared. Gilbert looked at it, not one for naming things. Well, it was her pen. He wasn't going to discuss it. "And I will record not only my future adventures but also the quest for my past in this book," she continued, looking at him.</p><p>"That sounds even better," he said, stretching his arms and trying to stifle a yawn. "Sorry" he apologized. "It just was a long day."</p><p>"You went to Charlottetown?" she asked.</p><p>"No, I just went looking for the crabs. Ended up two hours north of Carmody convincing a fisherman to give me most of his catch. But it's nothing, I'm just not used to being on the horse for so long. Lack of practice, I guess. I used to do it in Alberta all the time but it's been years since."</p><p>"You went up there to get crabs?" she asked, not believing him. He laughed.</p><p>"I went first to Avonlea. Then to the fishermen village down the back slope. Then to Carmody's market. Then convinced one of the vendors to give me the details about the one fisherman who managed to catch any crabs this week, because the crabs do not want to be in season this year, apparently. And then tracked him down and convinced him to sell me almost everything, and not some fancy restaurant in the city" he recalled the day's events.</p><p>"Why would you do that?" Anne asked.</p><p>"Crab callaloo is your favourite, from what I know," he said, rubbing his eyes as if that was all the explanation that was needed. It seemed adrenaline had gone when he had given her the present. Gilbert was losing the battle against fatigue, now. And very quickly. "I really don't want to be rude, and I want you to know I enjoy immensely every time you visit, Anne, but I'm very tired. Unless you want to spend the night here, on purpose this time, I suggest we take our leave," he looked as she turned red, recalling Christmas, and looked completely confused.</p><p>"I…" she seemed to actually think it. When he had spoken with Marilla and Matthew on their way out and they had accepted Bash's impulsive invitation, he hadn't thought it was a real possibility. She would never accept, he would never dare propose and they would end just taking her on the buggy, asking Bash to go with him so he wouldn't fall asleep and down a slope.</p><p>"Anne, just because I can invite you and wish for you to accept it doesn't mean it's smart. It just means being tired makes me say things I really want without thinking any of them through," he mumbled honestly. Why couldn't his mental filter work now? It was usually most functional. Deep inside, his rational side knew that it certainly wasn't proper for her to stay (it wasn't even proper for them to have this conversation), Matthew could say what he wanted. Marilla should probably know better. Diana, who was the epitome of propriety, would surely be scandalized by… everything. By the whole night, from the moment the Cuthberts left his home. Anne looked at him.</p><p>"I know Marilla and Matthew said something, but surely they are waiting for me back home," she said, resigned.</p><p>"Oh, don't worry about that. They honestly have no problem with this. Matthew actually insisted on it because he did notice I was tired and must know what it's like to ride like that, but wanted you to enjoy the whole day. I did as well, and wanted to give you the present, so..." he trailed off. Propriety was overrated, right?</p><p>"Now I know you're delirious," she said, laughing. He half-smiled at her as he shook his head. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the sofa, the stretch helping his back. She rested her head on his shoulder, as she sometimes did. As she did on the train, months ago. He moved his arms to go around her shoulders, giving her a half hug, and she seemed to relax and burrow herself in his chest, lifting her legs to the sofa. Effectively half laying, just as on Christmas. He put his feet on the footstool and burrowed himself on the soft pillows. This is how every night should end. With them, like this.</p><p>"I'm dead serious. Just way unfiltered because I'm so bone tired. You could probably ask me anything and I would answer. But about Marilla and Matthew, I have no idea what got into their heads," he said. Anne stayed silent as if pondering. He mustered some strength, because if he was going to lose this battle against etiquette at least he was going to do down trying, and said "In all earnestness, Anne. As much as I want it, I'm pretty sure it's not proper. And I'm not known for knowing all the etiquette rules, Mrs. Lynde keeps saying my father thwarted my education with all the travels and lack of women in our lives"</p><p>"I've done it before, haven't I?" she countered but didn't move.</p><p>"What, staying here?" she nodded against his chest. "You passed out, Anne. It's not like it was a real choice, Matthew wasn't going to carry you into Green Gables, you're too big for him to do that anymore," he explained.</p><p>"Yes, drunk. Passing out drunk and staying to sleep is more proper than being conscious and doing the same?"</p><p>"You have a point," he conceded.</p><p>"What's more, last time didn't you tell me that it wasn't going to go out from this house and mine?" she insisted. Well, it hadn't gone out, unless she had told someone, so he was keeping his part. "Why is it different? You told me I didn't have to care about propriety here, and I never do, but then you start talking about that just when it's convenient for you" she reproached him, speaking against his chest. He stopped to think about how to answer, trying to take his mind off the warmth and fog he felt.</p><p>"Anne, calm down," he said first, buying time, opening his eyes slightly and looking at her. Well, at the top of her red head. "I offered. You can stay. I <em>want</em> you to stay. And I stand by what I said: it's not going to go out of this house, so you needn't worry. My only worry about propriety now is for you, as you're of age and…" he didn't want to go there again tonight, and ended up sighting. How could he say any of this?</p><p>"I'm of age and so this is different than yesterday?" she asked as if insulted.</p><p>"Not in a bad way. You're just... a young lady now?" how weird that sounded. He thought about how to explain it without detailing all of what was happening and desisted. But she kept pushing, mainly because she was Anne and that's who she was. Stubborn as stubborn could be. He was pretty sure she was taking advantage now. Even his unfiltered, foggy mind could notice that.</p><p>"And?"</p><p>"And <em>nothing</em>. I'm not continuing this conversation" he sentenced. Because the alternative was saying <em>because I fully intend to court you from now on and starting with you sleeping here is as proper as me kissing you in mass for the whole town to see</em>, and he somehow managed to force himself to stay shut. "I'm just worried you won't speak to me again for months after this," he said, trying to go down another equally honest tangent. It was good that she couldn't see him. He felt like he could speak more freely and take that worry off his chest. And his seemingly nonexistent filter helped because if he wasn't going to say something, it seemed he was going to admit something else.</p><p>"Why would I do that?" she asked. He really turned this time and looked pointedly at her. "Last time it was different! You carried me to bed! You took my shoes off! I wore your clothes! Which I still have, by the way…" she tried to explain, avoiding his gaze like the plague and just burying herself on the folds of his sweater. The one she had knit.</p><p>"Seriously? You didn't speak to me for weeks because you wore my pants? Which you can keep, by the way, they looked better on you" he added. She nodded into his chest. "Anne, come on," he said earnestly, not believing it. She really could not be serious. He felt in his chest as she made a face like she was daring him. "Ok, but really. You have to stop that. You can't just stop talking to me because of those things" he stifled another yawn. "I'm so sorry" he excused himself. Anne looked at him, but didn't move her head from his chest and just decided to hug him. He was so content he would probably die there.</p><p>"Maybe we should just go to bed," she said but didn't move, as if they had already decided she was going to stay. He wouldn't push the situation further: he had expressed what he thought and if she didn't care there was nothing he could do. As he had told her, he wanted her to sleep at his house. She could come live with him, as far as he was concerned.</p><p>"Maybe. I'm awfully sorry. I wish I was as awake as you are. We can go see if Mary is still up, maybe she can lend you some pyjamas." he said, but didn't move to get up. Neither did she. He was pretty comfortable, by this point, legs stretched on the footstool, Anne on his chest, where she should be every night, all the soft pillows of the sofa in all the right places, his back slightly stretched. An unknown warmth inside.</p><p>"Can't we stay here for a bit?" she asked after a few minutes, as he was just falling asleep.</p><p>There really was no more harm in staying like that than there had been in any other part of the night. It wasn't like he was taking her to his bed. They were in the living room, every door open, Bash and Mary probably just next door. Probably even looking at them, giggling like kids. "For as long as you want, love" he mumbled, half-asleep, drifting over. Anne stayed very still, but then started breathing again.</p><p>He only woke up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Bash?" he asked confused, as he opened his eyes and saw his friend. Anne was no longer there. He sat up a little, confused. "Where's…"</p><p>"Mary is giving her some pyjamas so she can go to bed. Turn over so you can lay down properly and sleep, doc. It's late" he whispered. He nodded and did as told, laying down all the length of the sofa. Bash covered him with something heavy. "Don't worry about it now. I brought you a couple of the heavy blankets and put some wood on the fire, so you should be ok until tomorrow." Gilbert nodded and drifted off again. "You owe me one" Bash added before leaving the room, blowing out the last couple of lights that were still on.</p><hr/><p>Something smelled nice. Fresh bread. Or toast. Gilbert was sure. He turned, stretching his arms, sore from sleeping on the sofa, but amazed at having made it through the night in one stretch. He couldn't believe he had spent the whole night there. His back was as bad as the day before, but at least he was thankful it wasn't any worse. It was warm, the fire going on happily, and he realized someone must be up. Seating, he undid and took off the sweater and then the stiff, crumpled shirt, staying in his undershirt but sliding off the suspenders that were biting on his shoulders. Not a good way to sleep, definitely. He folded the shirt and the sweater, leaving them on the table and seeing a cup of tea there. Still warm, black.</p><p>He grabbed it and got up, walking to the kitchen. He stayed on the door frame watching the scene as he sipped from his tea. Anne was warming some toast on the stove (that's what smelled so good) as she read standing next to it, book propped over a pot.</p><p>"You know, you can also sit to read. People say is more comfortable and everything" he said after a moment. She jumped, surprised, and turned to look at him, cheeks red.</p><p>"I was… I always burn the toast if I'm not close" she admitted. He laughed.</p><p>"Can't imagine why," he answered, walking over and turning the toast that was on the verge of becoming charcoal. She bit her lips, remorseful, and he just looked at her. "Don't worry about it. And thanks for the tea, by the way. Sit, I'll prepare something. Did you had anything in mind, besides bread?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>"Not yet…" he looked over and saw some leftovers from the night before. He lifted the tea towel that was covering them and showed her.</p><p>"Fancy some crab on toast for breakfast?" Five minutes later they were eating the cold crab over the very toasted bread. "So yummy," Gilbert said, eating quickly as he always did. "I have to convince Sebastian to make this more often. Maybe you could, you're a better influence over him" Anne laughed. They ate in silence, after that.</p><p>Gilbert has so glad she was there, but feared having said too much the night before and didn't know what to speak about. He tended to do that when he was overly tired, something Bash had taken advantage of on occasion. It wasn't always bad: it just was the most unfiltered version of him and he could voice decisions faster. Like coming back to Avonlea. Accepting to deliver Delphine. But last night it had meant being all inappropriately cuddly and telling Anne he cared for her and that she was a lady of age, now. <em>Ugh.</em> At least Mrs. Lynde would never know any of this. He hoped.</p><p>"I'm sorry I fell asleep last night" he finally said. Apologizing couldn't hurt his case. She looked at him.</p><p>"It's fine. You were all over the island and I was just stubborn, wanting to talk and stay awake to stretch my birthday as long as I could" she said, looking at her tea.</p><p>"Still, it's rude. One moment we're speaking, the next I'm probably snoring and I don't even realize it," he said. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday. It was never my intention," he added after a pause.</p><p>"I know. I really like the present" Anne said, but looked away.</p><p>"I'm glad you like it. Just…" he shook his head and got up, clearing the plates. Gilbert sighed. He didn't want to go back to the uncomfortable place they had been at for the past few months, after Christmas. He didn't want to make as if last night hadn't happened either, but he also didn't want to have that conversation again.</p><p>In the end, he decided that Anne was way more awake than he was the night before, she was a bright woman and he had been honest and true if a bit forward. She could read between the lines (or <em>along</em> the lines, really) if she wanted to and she could sit with that knowledge. He would support her in her search as best as he could and go slow in the coming months and he was sure at some point she was going to let him know if she wasn't interested. It's not like she kept her opinions to herself. And that was it. For now, case closed.</p><p>He served more tea and started a discussion on the book Anne was reading when he arrived at the kitchen. And everything was right again.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. April</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Although the original idea had been for Gilbert to escort Anne to Charlottetown at some point in March, Cole had already some scheduled excursions in his art class that he could not change. So they were going on the first weekend of April. The Cuthberts had offered to take them to the train station. Gilbert was sure this had more to do with Anne going on her quest and the anxiousness it provoked on the couple of siblings than with them not believing he could take her in the buggy. However, he didn't comment and was grateful for the break. Bash was coming to get them later in the evening train.</p><p>Gilbert saw that Marilla was being particularly apprehensive that day, something he hadn't seen at that level before, and he had known her for many years now. He tried to joke around to lessen the tension, and because he thought the situation was a bit hilarious. Just a tad.</p><p>"I'll do my best to keep her out of a ditch," he said, patting the redhead on the arm and going inside the wagon to look for seats. He had said so in good nature, hoping to make them laugh and because he thought it was an absurd notion, to think Anne would ever be in that situation. She knew how to move around better than any of her peers. However, it somehow did the opposite for Anne, who was fuming when she sat down in front of him a few seconds later.</p><p>"She's fond of you," he said, pointing the obvious as to alleviate her. Maybe another strategy would work? Her mood didn't improve and she snapped at him like she hadn't in years. Probably she hadn't meant it, he didn't know, but her comment had stung where it truly hurt.</p><p><em>I certainly don't need you.</em> The comment would ring in his ears for the rest of the day, bringing to the front a worry that was permanently on the back of his mind. "Yes, I've <em>taken notice</em> of that" Gilbert answered coolly, referencing the damn board, their previous conversation and everything in between. He took out his book and pretended to read the whole way, even when she tried to apologize, just for the sake of ignoring her as much as he could. He knew he was being childish, but couldn't care less at the moment. Then, he turned as soon as he could when they arrived at Miss Barry's house after a brisk, tense walk from the station, leaving without saying goodbye and hearing behind him as she screamed in happiness when Cole went out to meet her. He walked in a bad mood until he arrived, early, to Dr. Ward's office. The cleaning miss was there already.</p><p>Miss Rose was dusting, speaking to the model skeleton in her high bourgeois tone. Gilbert had noticed her before, as she seemed to be as keen as Ruby in gaining his attention, just in a somewhat more grown way. He had never been interested in her. Today, however, he was in such a bad mood with Anne and the whole situation that he impulsively took the first opportunity (as there were going to be many along the day, he knew) and invited her to tea.</p><p>Maybe he needed to see more women. Get Anne out of his head. End this foolish obsession, that clearly had no more future in his life as anything different than a heartache. This gal was not as childish as Ruby, seemed to be mature and nice enough (at least she was so with the patients), was her own kind of beautiful and was poised and graceful. Everything a man looked for in a woman, so it seemed. She even managed to have a certain playfulness that attracted him. Not because it reminded him of Anne, of course. <em>Of course.</em></p><p>They went for a tea at a high society place he had never visited before, more used to the pubs and smallish restaurants of the port where he had a drink with Anne two years ago when he worked on the docks. When they called their truce and apologized for being general gits with each other. In the tea house, however, everything was different this time. The conversation was neither fluid nor free. She even taught him etiquette in an evident need to manage his relaxed manners. A whole lot to learn, apparently, about rules and how to break them. Everything he only thought about when he was with Anne out of courtesy and respect for her, was a stiff rule here, but also bendable and used as a means to flirt or show off. He joked without even thinking, because he was just so used to doing it with Anne and with his family, and although Miss Rose had laughed, it had prompted a hasty depart out of the tea place. Wasn't life supposed to be fun, words to be played with, wit to be had?</p><p>He grabbed a flower on the way out, just to have something to cling to. A different kind of future, maybe.</p><p>Gilbert had a reasonably good time, however, after feeling very uncomfortable half the time. It was probably just something to get used to. Winifred had some imagination, was easy to be with, didn't put him on his toes, didn't debate everything he said and was generally pleasant and unchallenging without being utterly boring. He went with a more calm heart back to the train station, his mind distracted from Anne. Maybe he could do this? Be with someone else?</p><p>She sat beside him on the train and, as many other times when she was this close, he felt instantly better, as if something heavy lifted from him. He smelled the flower, trying to concentrate.<em> Winifred. Easy to be with.</em> Gilbert smiled as he asked Anne how her search had gone, thinking there was no longer a purpose in being angry at her if, in the end, it didn't matter. He didn't ask anything further when she didn't give any details. She was silent, as so was he, probably for entirely different reasons.</p><p>He was just trying to decide if it was worth it. Could he be truly happy with someone like Winifred? Could his heart actually forget someone like Anne without being scarred forever? Without giving away part of his identity?</p><p>Gilbert dearly hoped so, as he made his decision. He would try. Really try. There was nothing else he could lose: it wasn't as if Anne wanted to be with him. She certainly didn't need him. <em>Her words.</em> Winifred would be something else entirely. Full of protocol and propriety, vacant of passion, fire and debate. But he could learn to be with her, just as he had to learn to be without Anne.</p><hr/><p>The next morning Gilbert did not have space in his mind to worry about Anne or Winifred or anything, the conversation he had just started to Mary suspended, not to be continued. Elijah had simply disappeared, as suddenly as he had come the day before, taking with him some of the last heirlooms he had of his late father. He didn't blame Bash or Mary for taking him in: he would have proposed it himself, had he been around the farm when Elijah arrived. It was just the frustration that was getting over him. He went out for a walk to calm his mind and spent most of the day outside, walking in the woods and to his favoured spot at the top cliff, the sea below him.</p><p>Seeing the sea's horizon didn't bring him the same yearning as it had before. After his father's death, he had watched as if it was calling him, new places to discover, so many things to learn, an option to get away from the closeness he felt in his chest, that made him feel trapped in Avonlea. His dad had given him the best foundation for life, he was sure, as he had been fully devoted to him since his mother's death. He had always pushed him out of his boundaries. Always challenging him to go further, to be stronger, to have more strength of character. But also, to be kinder. To forgive. To appreciate his feelings and allow himself to fully feel them. To remember to have fun and not to take everything so seriously.</p><p>It was silly of him, if he was being honest, to cling on material things when his very self was a reminder of the man he had been. But he couldn't help but feel like it was another way in which his dad was slipping away. How horrible must Mary feel. How hurt. He would make sure that she understood how serious he was when he said he didn't blame her.</p><p>On his way home he stopped for a while at the grave. He didn't go often: only when he felt very distressed, very lost, and talking it through with Mary or Bash didn't seem to help. What would his father think of this whole business? Probably he would be furious, but it was very likely he wouldn't care that much. He was not an heirloom kind of guy and he just kept those things because there was no reason to get rid of them. He would be madder about the suffering Elijah was putting her mother through than about the things he took.</p><p>The only thing he had cared about was his mother's rings. A simple emerald ring, golden band. Another one, even daintier, with an amethyst in it. And that (and a couple of other trinkets he deemed "important enough") was stored safely somewhere in his room, where he had left it when his father had given it to him.</p><p>"Only for the girl you deeply love, son" his father had said, and Gilbert had promised. The same way he had vowed to wait until that same girl was sixteen. And now, just when she had reached that age, he had decided to pursue someone else. He sighed. He hoped he was doing this right. He may be still at school, but felt the weight of his life upon him, with the many responsibilities he already had and the magnitude of the decisions he made in the coming months that were going to define his future, for better or worse.</p><hr/><p>"Mary? Bash? I'm back" Gilbert called when he entered a little while later. He left the checkered jacket on the hook, but kept the scarf, and went to cut a bit of bread, hungry after skipping lunch. Sitting outside for hours had not been the smartest way to stay warm, he thought, as he put some soup to warm as well.</p><p>"Hi, Gilbert" Mary appeared shyly on the doorway. "I'm so, so sorry about Elijah… I don't know him anymore. He's not the son I raised"</p><p>"Mary, really. I wish it hadn't happened, but it did and there's nothing we can do about it. Don't blame yourself. His actions are not yours" he said earnestly. She nodded but looked a bit shaken still. He went and held her, as she cried.</p><p>"Your father's heirlooms… I'm just so sure he doesn't even know what he has taken," she said. He shook his head.</p><p>"If I'm being honest, I'm just glad he took the medals and the trinkets in that room and didn't look further. Not much was lost. The real heirlooms are very few, and they are all in my room, where we know for a fact he didn't go," he explained, calming her as he rubbed her back. "Those were just silly medals, Mary. Probably they have some monetary value, but the sentimental one is not very strong. I'm much more concerned about how you are right now" she nodded on his chest.</p><p>"Such a silly, silly boy," she mumbled, referring to Elijah. "I tried to give him everything I could. But it was just so hard at the beginning. We didn't have much."</p><p>"You were a child, Mary. How old were you when you had him? Thirteen? Fourteen? No one blames you. We all know how much you love him and how you did everything you could" he said. He let go and looked at her, still teary-eyed, and gave her his handkerchief. He noticed something in her hand. "What happened there?" he asked, worried. She looked at the bandage.</p><p>"Oh, it's nothing. Just a cut I did when I was preparing lunch yesterday. Feels a bit tender, though," she said, evidently trying to not give it any thought or importance.</p><p>"Mind if I take a look? You don't want that to get infected…" Gilbert answered, in what Mary recognized from Delphine's birth as his doctor's voice. He motioned to the table and they took a seat. She unwrapped the fabric slowly, as it was indeed painful. It didn't look so good and Gilbert looked at her. "Did you wash it properly yesterday?" he asked, looking at her straight in the eyes.</p><p>"I believe so. I don't really remember… there was a bit of a commotion just afterwards," she answered, not looking at him. He got up and poured some of the warm water in a bowl, some cleansing salts, and took some clean rags. He started cleaning the wound, which was still bleeding, red and swollen, something yellowish coming out.</p><p>"I don't like the look of it, to be honest," Gilbert mumbled, worried. He believed it needed some stitches if it was still bleeding, and was sure she needed something to treat what was evidently infected. "How are you feeling, in general?" he asked as he stood up, looking around the little medicine they kept and found a small bottle of carbolic acid to clean a bit further.</p><p>"Maybe a bit of a headache, but that must be from the crying," she dismissed it. Gilbert wasn't convinced. He sighed.</p><p>"Any fever?" he insisted. She shrugged.</p><p>"Look, I can try this. But I honestly think we should go to Dr. Ward. There's… I don't like how it looks" she frowned at him, evidently thinking he was overreacting. He looked at her, earnest. "Please, Mary. I don't want you getting sick over something we can prevent, or at least catch in time. This shouldn't look like this," he insisted. He knew that because by that time he had seen enough clean and properly cared for wounds at Dr. Ward's to know this looked nothing like them. He got on cleaning, feeling how she tensed. It sure was hurting, and her whole hand was hot.</p><p>"Can't we wait until tomorrow, at least?" she asked.</p><p>"Well, we don't have any other option, considering we're going to Charlottetown," Gilbert answered. Putting his hand on her forehead. "You're a bit warm. What knife were you using, anyway?" he asked and looked over where she signalled. The old, blunt one. He needed to do something about the kitchen utensils in his house and he made a mental note to take care of it. He finished cleaning as best as he could. "I don't want to cover it just now, I think it needs to breathe, otherwise it will just get damp and fill with fluid again. I will cover it before you go to bed. But try not to use your hand much, we'll help you with Delphine. Where's Bash, anyway?"</p><p>"Went out as well. He doesn't know what to do with himself. I hope he's back soon, it's getting late" she said, looking outside.</p><p>"He will be, don't worry. I'll get started on some supper. Anything you fancy? I was just warming some soup" he asked, as he organized and washed everything he had used to clean the wound and washed his hands. He just left out some bandages to wrap her hand later. He served a couple of bowls and they were about to eat when Bash arrived.</p><p>"Sebastian!" Mary got up and went to hug him. He hugged her back and nodded at Gilbert.</p><p>"How's the hand doing?" he asked, noticing it was no longer bandaged.</p><p>"Gilbert took the time to look at it. It will get better," she dismissed it.</p><p>"What I actually said was that I thought you should go to Charlottetown tomorrow," Gilbert corrected her, giving her a stern look. He knew she didn't want to cause any more trouble after Elijah, but he wasn't bending on this. That cut looked bad. "I think Dr. Ward should see that. There's something that doesn't look right to me, it's very red and swollen and Mary has a tad of fever" if she wasn't telling Bash, he was. They took care of each other, dysfunctional family as they were.</p><p>"To Charlottetown, it is," Bash declared. "We will go first thing in the morning. Thank you, doc," Bash said, looking grateful at his brother.</p><p>"It's nothing, really. Just, please, go tomorrow and let me know how it goes. The last thing we want is a serious infection."</p><p>And a serious infection it was, apparently. Early in the morning, Gilbert took them to the train station, where by now they treated Bash and Mary, if not with respect, at least with cool indifference. They knew they paid their fare and kept to themselves. Mary, slightly feverish, hadn't spent a particularly good night and had agreed to go to the doctor when they had suggested again at dawn. Gilbert had stayed back with Delphine, skipping school for the day and catching up on paperwork from the farm, his bank accounts and various school essays before picking them up again in the midday train. They came back quiet.</p><p>"So, how did it go?" Gilbert asked, handling them a sleepy Delphine.</p><p>"It is infected," said Bash. "Dr. Ward said you did well, sending Mary when you did. He sent you a note, explaining everything" he took an envelope out of his inner pocket and exchanged the reins for it with Gilbert. He read it quickly. After a detailed explanation from the doctor, in which he made it clear that he might have just saved his friend's life, he instructed him on how to change the dressings, how to clean the wound and take the points off after some days. All the red flags he should look for. How she would probably get a bit worse before getting better, but also when to absolutely draw the line and send for him.</p><p>"Well, we will just follow the instructions and keep an eye. Maybe Marilla can help a bit with Delly during the day so you don't put too much strain on your hand and can properly rest. You <em>will</em> need to rest," Gilbert said, looking at Mary because he knew she never was still. She nodded. "How are you feeling? You don't look that great"</p><p>"Just tired, Gilbert. The doctor used something so he could stitch me and I still feel drowsy and nauseous, next time I'll just endure it," she answered, resting her head on her husband's shoulder, who hugged her. Gilbert nodded, acknowledging he had heard her. "Thank you for insisting that I go. I didn't fully understand everything, but he stressed it could have been very serious," she added.</p><p>"It can still be, but we'll take care of you as best as we can. Thank you for listening and believing my intuition. I made some broth for you, Bash can heat it for you after we help you get comfortable and I can head over to the Cuthbert's and talk with Marilla about helping you this week. I think it's edible," he said, and Bash laughed. "Did you manage to get everything on the list?" he asked them, after reading everything the doctor had listed.</p><p>"Dr. Ward gave it to us. He said he would sort it out later with you."</p><p>"Oh. Great. That's easy, then. I was worried about getting all of this here" he said, grateful to his mentor. When they arrived home, he made sure she was installed and took her temperature. A bit high, but not too much. Getting to the barn, he dismantled the buggy and put on the seat over the horse to take off to Green Gables. It was still early afternoon.</p><hr/><p>"Thanks, Jerry," he said, as the farm boy opened the gate. "Do you know if Miss Cuthbert is home?" the other one looked at him, confused. Probably for seeing him at that time.</p><p>"Yes, I think she's in the house," he said. Thanking him again, Gilbert went to the pole where he tied his horse and then headed to the house. He knocked lightly on the door, seeing Marilla do something on the kitchen table.</p><p>"Gilbert! Is everything alright? Why aren't you at school? Is Anne ok?" she greeted him worriedly, cleaning her hands on the apron.</p><p>"Hi, Marilla. Don't… don't worry," he said to appease her. She invited him in and he followed her to the kitchen.</p><p>"Is everything alright, then? Do you want some tea?" she asked, going to the teapot she had just made.</p><p>"Oh, ok. Thank you. I'm... just calling to ask you a favour. Mary… she cut her hand badly the other day and it got a bit infected. She already went to Dr. Ward's, but he advised her to take it easy for a few days, at least until the infection is controlled and we know it's on the mend," he explained, as he received some tea. Marilla served some cookies on a dish and sat in front of him.</p><p>"Do you want me to come over?" she asked, understanding.</p><p>"Please. If it's not too much trouble. Bash and me, we'll take care of her as much as we can. But if maybe you could help us in the mornings? Just to take care after Delphine, we'll leave you some dinner and everything. We don't want to abuse your trust," Gilbert said.</p><p>"It's no trouble at all. Let me cook for you these days as well, you have enough on your plate already. Is she very ill?"</p><p>"Some… I mean, it could have been worse, but we just have to wait and see if the wound reacts well to the medication Dr. Ward sent her, and if nothing goes amiss" he was more worried than he cared to admit about the whole situation. Medicine was supposed to cure people, but after reading Dr. Ward's letter he felt frustrated as if it was more a matter of believing and praying than real science. "He wrote to me he is mostly sure she will get better, but that there is a chance of getting worse before that. Bash is beside himself" Marilla noded.</p><p>"I'll be there, Gilbert. Don't you worry more than what is necessary, ok?" he nodded and sighed. He honestly wasn't sure if he could do that. Worrying seemed to be a part of himself as of late. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, as she looked him in the eyes. "Is there anything else troubling you?" she asked, and he instantly felt a knot forming in his throat. The exasperation with medicine, the lot of paperwork he had done in the morning, the new contacts Bash and him were trying to make to export some of the crop to Europe, the essays and articles for school, the internship at Dr. Ward's and then Anne and Winnifred and his father… The lack of sleep, that was getting more and more acute with each month. He shook his head, looking away, because he knew he wouldn't be able to speak, lump in the throat, too many concerns to just pick one. "Oh, Gilbert".</p><p>She stood up and went to hug him, her standing up, him still seated, his head on the older woman's chest as if she were his mother, her arms holding him strongly. A foreign, yet so comforting touch for him, who had only grown with his father. He felt his eyes water. What was wrong with him these days? "You can trust us with anything. Matthew and I, we regard you as if you were part of this family. Anne may be the daughter we always longed for, but you most definitely are the son. We won't tell anything you confide in us," she said, and he immediately understood that she meant not only everyone in town but also especially Anne.</p><p>And he knew he could speak. Freely. If he was being honest, he could use a mother's perspective, because much as he felt he had siblings now with Mary and Bash, they still didn't have that experience that only came with the years. The older woman rubbed his back soothingly, letting him cry like the child he felt like at the moment. When he stopped shaking, she let go of him and he pulled out his handkerchief from the pocket.</p><p>"I'm so sorry, Marilla. I don't know what came over me" he said, trying to clean his nose and compose himself.</p><p>"You can't take the weight of the world on your shoulders, son," she said, rubbing his shoulder. He felt the tension he had in the muscles. "You're under too much stress. Managing all of your family's affairs, even if you're splitting the farm chores with Bash, and I know for a fact he does his fair share... attending your internship, caring for the baby, writing for the newspaper, doing all the schoolwork and the additional tutoring for Queens… It's a lot. Matthew and I wonder sometimes how you manage to do everything. And those are just the things you do, not the ones you feel" he had never actually stopped to think if it was too much. It was his duty, and he knew he had to do it responsibly and efficiently, just as his father had taught him. He just did it, no questions. "Is it really necessary that you do everything?" she asked kindly. He sighed. He didn't know if there was anything he could let go. "When I was your age, my position was… not that much different from yours. I had to make many hard decisions for the sake of my family. And while I don't regret any of them, I also believe that it is not necessary to bury oneself in duties and forget to live, to share" she told him, warmly. "Isn't there something you can let go of, to alleviate some of the load?" she asked again.</p><p>"I… I don't actually know," he answered honestly, frowning. "I never thought about any of this. Never considered giving up something. Most things are non-negotiable, I believe," he said.</p><p>"Which ones are negotiable? You can start with one of those. And we can see how to help you with the other ones if there is still the need" he looked at his tea. Deep down, he knew the internship had run its course, at least for now. He would study medicine, and then he would learn everything Dr. Ward was teaching him now and some more. But if he couldn't pass the entrance examination to medicine in Queens, he was never going to be able to pursue that.</p><p>"Maybe I could let go of the internship, it has provided the answers I was looking for," he said, after a few minutes, frowning a bit as he made the decision. "That will free the Saturdays, and I can take care of the other affairs during that day" Marilla nodded. It made sense.</p><p>"Your medicine studies won't suffer?"</p><p>"They will if I don't pass the entrance exams for Queens," he acknowledged. She nodded again. "I will write to Dr. Ward this afternoon. It has been on my mind for some time, but… it's difficult to stop and think, sometimes. It's like life just goes by and you're just trying to catch up with it" he said, feeling a bit calmer just by freeing those hours each week, but with the dread of telling his mentor that he had to let go of the opportunity he had given him.</p><p>"You have to stop and reevaluate once in a while. With Matthew, we try to do it at least quarterly, especially after the trouble we had a couple of years ago," she said. He took one of the cookies. Oatmeal and raisins. He examined it, thinking. "You still look troubled. It is the same expression your father used to have when he was your age, before he went away on his travels," he looked at her.</p><p>"I didn't know…"</p><p>"You're very much like him, Gilbert. And for that, it is my guess there is something more on your mind" she looked at him knowingly. He chuckled and shook his head.</p><p>"You have an uncanny ability to read my mind, Marilla," he said, and they stayed in silence for a moment. He was trying to sort his thoughts. "I don't even know how to put it into words," he admitted after a moment. Marilla got up again and, with a pat on his shoulder, went to organize things for supper. He stayed there, thinking, drinking his tea and nibbling the cookie, as she continued with her chores. He knew it was her way of giving him space to think without pressure. "It's like… how do you know when you've tried enough and it's time to let go?" he asked, some minutes later. She seemed to think for a moment, then turned to look at him.</p><p>"Where there is hope, there never is enough trying, Gilbert," she said softly. He looked at her. <em>Hope</em>. So easy to say. So hard to… "Don't give up without putting in some real effort. Backing out when it's the time to go forward is not something your father would do, and I know you would repent later on. At the very least, give your best until you receive a definitive answer, one you know in your heart of hearts is not going to change. Remember, love is patient." He nodded, frowning as he concentrated and ate his cookie, and she continued chopping vegetables.</p><p>"Sometimes… sometimes, I wonder," he started, but then shut up to organize his thoughts. "Do you believe she still does that? Pushing away people she cares about?"</p><p>"Who, Anne?" Marilla asked him. He nodded. "I'm most sure, Gilbert," she said smiling sadly and he sighed. "I still believe she doesn't do so on purpose. And I do think she cares for you, on some level," she concluded.</p><p>"But how… wh-when…?" he stammered, as he would have never thought Marilla Cuthbert, of all people, was going to be so direct with him. He couldn't reformulate or elaborate anything more, as the door opened suddenly and Anne appeared, basket in hand, books under the arm, looking around as if searching for something. He got up quickly, as there was no way this conversation could continue now. "I really should get going," he told Marilla, who nodded in understanding.</p><p>"Gilbert?" Anne said, looking relieved at seeing him. "Are you ok? I saw your horse outside. You weren't at school today. Your eyes"</p><p>"Hi, Anne. Don't worry, everything's fine. Just needed to talk with Marilla, but I really need to go back now," he said. He didn't dare explain Mary's situation, as he knew the redhead would try to tag along to care for her, and he needed to be alone at that moment. If not alone, at least away from her.. "I'll see you at school," he added with a nod, and then went and gave Marilla a light kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, for everything," he said earnestly and took his leave.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Late April</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>Late</em>
  </strong>
  <strong> April</strong>
</p><p>Anne started bringing him the school lessons like she had just before his father's death. The coincidence was not lost on Gilbert, who felt even worse when she appeared at his door. At first, he thought she was calling on Mary, but then it was evident by the stack of books on her arms. Or her visit had a double purpose.</p><p>"Oh, hi Anne," he said that day, as he opened the door, distracted, not overly happy to see her. Mary had clearly not gotten any better and, if it was possible, she was getting worse every passing day, a new ailment every day adding to the fever she had endured for the past week. Sweats. Headache. Difficulty swallowing.</p><p>"Gilbert. Hi. I… I brought you some books," she said, not looking at him. He received them absentmindedly.</p><p>"Thank you, there was no need, really," he said. She didn't move. "Do you want to come in?" He finally said, not really meaning to.</p><p>"If… if it's not too much inconvenience, I would like to say hi to Mary. Marilla told me about her delicate state" she said, shyly but firmly. He frowned. Why was she being so formal? "Only if she feels good enough to see me, Marilla mentioned she is indeed delicate."</p><p>"Of course, of course. Come on in. She's in her room. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Just… I don't know if she's awake, to be honest. She's had a headache for most of the day," he said, letting her in and leaving the books on the kitchen table. She nodded and went quickly to her friend's room.</p><p>Gilbert stayed in the kitchen, not knowing what else to do, and skimmed through what she had brought him, setting aside the book he was reading before on infectious diseases, trying to understand what was happening with Mary. He had been looking for answers in all the books Dr. Wards had lent him and the more he read, the more it seemed to him that medicine was just an elevated anatomy study because they were not doing anything. At least they were not taking blood barbarically as they did some hundred years ago. He smiled sadly as he saw the little notes she had made on the margins of the chapters she had marked with pieces of paper, making sure to point out all the important passages and adding comments of her own.</p><p>"Gilbert?" he heard, after a while. He was concentrating so hard on quadratic equations he didn't pay attention at first. "Gilbert, I…" he looked up and saw Anne, who seemed to be ready to leave.</p><p>"Sorry, I was just on this," he said, getting up. "Do you need me to walk you?" he asked, a bit disoriented. Having his mind in so many things at once sure wasn't helping him think, which was evident by her grimace.</p><p>"Walk me? No, no thank you" he frowned and sat down again, more confused. "I just… Wanted to apologize" he looked at her, raising an eyebrow. This was getting more and more surreal. Why would she want to apologize? "I was… rude, the other day. When you escorted me to Charlottetown. I didn't mean to," she said quickly. He just looked at her. Oh, that day. It seemed so long ago. What was it, two, three weeks? One? "Right," she added uncomfortably, as he didn't answer anything. "So, I'll see you around" she went to the door and only when she was opening it he reacted.</p><p>"Anne?" she turned. "It's alright. About that day. I was joking around and it wasn't called for. I'm sorry about that."</p><p>"Why do you do that?" she asked, accusingly, closing the door again. He looked at her, stunned. "Apologize? Every time. I apologize to you and then you somehow change it and make it your apology. It's like some people who just try to blame the other for whatever problem, we just try to <em>own</em> the problem and apologize to the other" she explained, exasperated. He laughed.</p><p>"Do you think I do that?"</p><p>"I know you do, Gilbert. You always have. We both do. Since we met," and then he remembered the time they met by chance in Charlottetown, when he was on the docks. After his father's death. He wouldn't be able to escape from Avonlea this time. Not with Bash and little Delly. He really hoped it didn't come to that.</p><p>"Oh… you mean when we called our truce," he said, remembering their handshake outside the coffee shop. "Truce you haven't maintained, must I say," he added, a half-smile in his lips, reclining in the chair, his arms crossed, glad to be able to distract his mind for the first time in days. She seemed at a loss of words. He signalled the books she had brought, teasing her "A bit competitive, still? I'm pretty sure you brought these just so you could say later you're a rightful winner." She contemplated the books for a moment.</p><p>"Fair and square," she whispered as if remembering something. He did, too. The words he had written. The ones he had told her when she first started bringing books to his home, years ago. "If we're coming to that, you broke the truce first, when you gave me that dictionary," she said accusingly, but it was evident it was only in jest.</p><p>"Really? You're calling the <em>Christmas gift</em> I gave you, calling off our truce?" he asked, not able to stop smiling cheekily. She laughed. "In all seriousness, Anne. There's nothing to worry about. I know you probably didn't mean it." Even if he had thought about that every single night since that Saturday and had impulsively invited Winifred to tea.</p><p>"I didn't," she said quickly. "I do… need you. You're family. I tried to apologize then, but…"</p><p>"I was a git. I know. I apolo…" Family?! He didn't want her to see him as his brother, was he honestly being… brotherly? He didn't want to be <em>brotherly</em> with Anne!</p><p>"Stop it! We'll never see the end of this otherwise," she interrupted him. He laughed again, in better humor he had been for days, his mind somewhat clearer. She took her bag. "I really need to go, now. Marilla will have my head otherwise. But I'll see you?" He nodded. Absolutely.</p><p>"Yeah, of course" she turned and, just before she exited the door, he decided it was worth asking. "Anne?" she turned and looked at him "You do know I'm not… your cousin or… sibling or anything, right?" she turned red. Red as red could be. <em>Well, that was oddly satisfying.</em></p><p>"I-I… No, Gilbert. Definitely not." she said quickly and went outside even faster, closing the door, no further explanation. He laughed happily and went back to his equations, after putting a pot in the stove to warm with some broth for Mary.</p><hr/><p>A couple of days later, it became evident that "she's probably get a bit worse before she gets better" turned out to be "she's going to scare the living daylights out of you". The fever got up to a point where Gilbert didn't know what else to do. The wound didn't seem to close. None of the medicines seemed to make any difference, they could probably don't do anything and it would be the same. What started with a sore jaw and a cramp, turned into something else. When she started having spasms, Gilbert took the horse as fast as he could, putting on the saddle with trembling hands, and galloped to Charlottetown in the middle of the night. This was a flag as red as blood. The first one on the list the doctor had written, underlined.</p><p>Dr. Ward came with him to check on the patient. Seeing both his mentor and late father's doctor in his house again did strange things to Gilbert's mental state, which he didn't want to admit to anyone. Bash was so worried he wasn't even able to stay in the same room as Mary for much time and just went to work his frustration out in the barn, even if it was only four in the morning. Telling him how he dreaded another death in the house was out of the question.</p><p>Staying until dawn (and then breakfast, by Gilbert's insistence), Dr. Ward did everything he could. The diagnosis was easy and clear, for him: not caring properly and fast had not only allowed the wound to get infected but also for a more deadly bacteria to sicken Mary's body. There was no known cure for tetanus and the only thing they could do was wait. Wait and pray, and maybe try to alleviate some of the worst symptoms. The doctor tried to console them: there was a slight chance. It was not sepsis, at least.</p><p>That didn't cut it for Gilbert, who felt his disenchantment with medicine growing stronger. There was not even something they could use for the pain. The doctor left with a heavy heart after seeing the worry in both men's faces. There was actually nothing he could do: she would break the infection, or she would not, and only time would tell.</p><p>Gilbert went outside, feeling downright suffocated in his house. He walked aimlessly around the orchard and then the forest, but without wandering too far from the farm, trying to vent his frustration and not being able. He had to be back home soon, so Bash could sleep a couple of hours and he could take over watching over Mary. But he couldn't face going there again and talking with her about how her condition depended solely on… whatever strength her body had and sheer luck.</p><p><em>He just couldn't face them or stomach the possibilities</em>, he thought as angry tears went down his cheeks and he sat in his usual log in the forest. It was downright unfair to her, to Bash, to Delly. They were so happy and right for each other that it didn't make any sense. Mary finally had a sense of stability, even if Elijah hadn't answered any of her letters. She had been in a good place before this whole mess started, and she deserved it. He knew she did. He was also tired of the people he loved dying.</p><p>"Gilbert?" he heard in the midst of his internal rant. He didn't pay attention, but then he heard again and lifted his head from his arms, where he had been holding it with utter frustration, trying to escape reality at least for a minute. Anne was there. On her way to school, because apparently it was a weekday and she had her basket and her books. "Are you ok? Is Mary ok?" she asked, worry evident in her features. He couldn't get himself to answer and she sat hurriedly next to him and hugged him.</p><p>He collapsed on her shoulder, crying as he explained that yes, she was alive, but no, she was most definitely not okay with a disease that had no cure and could very easily be mortal. She rubbed his back, letting him cry and let all the frustration he felt fade into tears.</p><p>"You're going to be late, Anne," he said after a while, when he was more composed but wanted to just keep hugging her forever.</p><p>"Do you think it actually matters? You're more important than handing my homework," she assured him, not letting go of him either. They stayed like that for a while longer. When he finally let go of her, she didn't get up but instead held his hand. He contemplated it for a while, lost in his thoughts.</p><p>"I don't know how I can be a doctor, Anne," he finally admitted. "They need me to be strong, and... I'm just a mess", he said, looking at the handkerchief he had on the hand that wasn't being held by hers. As always, she had the right words to say. He didn't know if she understood him that well or if she was this way with everyone, but the fact was that, even if he was still so frustrated with everything, he began to see more clarity in what he thought was his vocation. He could start to find strength in his worry, in the love he had. It could be his undoing, but also what made him move.</p><p>Anne went back with him to the farm. There was no longer a point for her to go to school, it was too late and she would barge in the middle of the lesson. When they arrived, Bash stood worriedly and sighed at the sight of them.</p><p>"You both go to sleep. I'll watch over her and cook some dinner," Anne instructed, her voice not admitting any replies. "Go on, it's not the first time I take care of someone sick."</p><p>"You're an angel, Anne," Bash said, and kissed her forehead before leaving the kitchen. Gilbert would do the same, even more, but didn't feel brave enough. They stood there for a moment.</p><p>"Go, Gil. Rest. I'll call you when it's time to eat or if something happens," she assured him. He nodded and went to the stairs. When he arrived at his bed, he collapsed, still dressed, and went to sleep more relaxed than he had been in days. Anne always would do anything better. Even the worst moments, she would brighten.</p><hr/><p>The next few weeks were a living hell, to put it mildly. Mary suffered and Gilbert felt more impotent than he had felt since his father's sickness. Bash worked outside as hard as he could, for he could not tolerate seeing the suffering of his wife. Her spasms seemed to be triggered by everything, from a cold draft to Dellie's cries and grew stronger for days, arching her back and legs in ways Gilbert and Bash didn't believe was possible. Gilbert was actually concerned that she might have broken a rib at some point. The fever didn't seem to break, nor a constant headache. Trouble swallowing made eating an almost impossible task and between Marilla, Bash and even Mrs. Lynde tried to cook everything in the softest of consistencies.</p><p>One night, they thought they might lose her. When she had a seizure, Gilbert thought it was all lost. However, it seemed to be the flexing point of the infection: the fever broke down for the first time in days and in the wee hours of the morning she was able to speak and make coherent conversation, the feverish hallucination behind. She managed to swallow some broth more easily than the other days. It seemed the worst had passed, and they were able to breathe again. Well, mostly. Still cautiously.</p><p>Gilbert still felt in conflict with the whole treatment, or lack thereof, as most of it had basically been to clean the wound until it healed (long before the rest of her body), try to keep Mary comfortable, hope for the best. Hope and pray. But nothing to treat the infection. There was nothing medicine could contribute?</p><p>With Mary being clearly out of risk a couple of days later, Gilbert ventured out of the house for the first time in what seemed to be weeks, as Marilla and other friends had been bringing them whatever they didn't grow on the farm. Although the initial plan had been for him to go to school, for Bash to work as usual and for Marilla to help them, with the days it had become evident that Mary needed them by her side. Marilla still went for a bit to check on them, usually bringing them pastries and bread, but the bulk of the caring for the baby and Mary was done between Gilbert and Bash. They couldn't impose. It was too terrifying even for them when Mary started to contort in pain and spasms.</p><p>"Thanks," Gilbert said to the mailman as he received some letters that were being delivered just when he got to the fence. He put them in his pocket to look at them later and continued his walk. It was too late to go to school, but the morning was bright and beautiful as if it knew of Mary's recovery.</p><p>The view from the cliff was as magnificent as always. The clear sky reflected on the sea and made it the most profound blue, and he just sat there for a while, looking. Then he remembered the correspondence and took out the envelopes from his pocket. A statement from the bank, some taxes to be paid, a letter from Dr. Ward, and one more. From Winifred.</p><p>Gilbert scanned quickly the statement just to confirm what he already knew, left the taxes envelope untouched as he preferred to tend to that with his account books and a clear mind and read the note from the doctor. They had been exchanging correspondence on Mary's progress. He still remembered his answer, when he had told him that he was not going to continue with the internship for the time being. He completely understood, wished him well and hoped they would stay in touch. He didn't accept the payment for the medicine he had given Mary and Bash, referring to it as a gift from a friend. <em>Don't hesitate to write to me if you have any doubts or concerns during your studies,</em> he wrote, <em>and remember you can come back anytime you want. I'm still looking for someone to share the practice with, and I know you will be a fantastic doctor, Gilbert</em>. If he decided to become one, he thought, as Mary's illness had sorely disappointed him in the profession.</p><p>He opened the last letter almost without thinking, his mind still in the voids of modern medicine.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Dear Mr. Blythe.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Gilbert</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Dr. Ward has disclosed to me the news about your stopping coming here on Saturdays and kindly gave me your address. I hope you won't mind.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>I must tell, Mr. Bones is sorely disappointed. Will we ever have tea again? Last time was so dreadfully boring- I enjoyed it immensely. When I told Father about you he made it clear he is interested in making your acquaintance.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Yours truly,</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Winnie</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Gilbert realized he had forgotten about her, with all the past weeks' events. They had tea two, three weeks ago, he recalled. When life was not so complicated. It seemed so distant, now. He remembered how angry he had been that day with Anne and her harsh comment, and how he had invited Winnie just to get the redhead out of his mind. Convinced it was just about time he should take her out of his head and start seeing other women. Now that the days had passed, he wasn't so sure anymore about his impulsive thoughts of that day.</p><p>Gilbert recalled the conversation he had with Marilla the other day when he had gone to Green Gables to ask for her help. Maybe the redhead did… care? And he did feel hope. Sometimes. When she looked at him in that weird way that made his heart skip a bit. When she suddenly seemed to lose all her words. When she turned red in weird moments looking at him. How she had reacted to her birthday present and rested her head on his shoulder sometimes. How she said he was family, but definitely not a brother or a cousin (and he was positive that he could fill no other male relative's role). He just needed to be patient. <em>Love is patient.</em> The older woman had said so herself and he knew he had read the words somewhere before. He had to look it up.</p><p>Anyway, about Winnie's letter… Gilbert didn't see any harm in continuing some communication with the blonde gal. He would just be clear about his intentions, and maybe she would be a good sport about it and become his friend? She was fun enough. There was no harm in it and in getting to know her father, as he seemed so interested, wasn't there? He stayed there for a while longer, eating a sandwich and an apple he had packed just in case.</p><hr/><p>Mary was well enough by Easter and they had a big, happy lunch to celebrate in the gardens. Her spasms were becoming few and far in between, no longer triggered by movement or noise. She was still in much pain, but Dr. Ward had warned it would take months to fully recover if she ever did at all.</p><p>This time, unlike Thanksgiving, the Lyndes and the Barries were able to attend and it was a joyous gathering after the fright they had had. Mary was still very weak, after days and days with high fever, and stayed resting on the side, on his late father's wheelchair, but well accompanied by everyone. It seemed like her illness had brought the small community together with his family, finally more accepting, and he was grateful for it. It was about time.</p><p>Mary wanted to thank them for the company and read her favourite passage of the Bible. As she read it, he finally made the connection with what Marilla had told him the other day. From another passage, yes, but… He went inside the house for a moment and decided to find it. <em>Corinthians</em>. It didn't take much, and he copied it on a piece of paper, to put in his pocket and read when he needed some strength.</p><p>
  <em>Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.</em>
</p><p>He read it once again.<em> Always hopes, always perseveres.</em> He smiled and was back outside just when Anne was giving Mary a present. He went over to see and sat next to Mary.</p><p>"I thought you could give it to Delphine, when she's older" Anne explained "I… also left some blank pages behind, because I am sure there is still a wealth of culinary knowledge for you to share and discover" she continued, as Mary turned page upon page of her precious recipes written in the most perfect calligraphy, adorned with many pressed flowers. Mary straightened a little to hug her, and Anne sat by her side. "Do you like it?"</p><p>"Like it? It's my culinary legacy and I didn't even have to write it down myself! I love it!" Mary exclaimed. Gilbert took the small book and made a signal to Mary. He didn't want to interrupt their moment. She nodded. He got up and started looking at the pages, one by one, relishing in the careful calligraphy and pressed flowers. You could feel the love in each page. Diana stood beside him.</p><p>"You're <em>so</em> evident, Gilbert," she said in a low voice. He turned to look at her. Was he? He shrugged. He didn't care anymore. He hadn't, for a long time. So he just decided not to acknowledge her.</p><p>"It's a lovely present," he sentenced. Diana looked at him, expecting an answer, and he sighed. "She's not interested, Diana. I would… appreciate it if we could just drop the subject? Let it be, please?" he looked at the brunette, pleading with her. The last thing he needed was someone else's opinion on this matter. She nodded, but he felt her eyes on him the whole afternoon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. May</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Not many weeks passed after that when Anne arrived at his house, red eyes as if she had been crying. It was late afternoon and Gilbert wasn't expecting her, much less like that. Someone must have let her in, as he was studying in his desk upstairs when she suddenly was on the threshold of his room.</p><p>"Anne? Is everything alright?" he asked worried, getting up and guiding her to his bed, for lack of a better place for the two of them to sit. He sat beside her. She took a breath, as to speak, but didn't manage. She looked angry and frustrated. He waited a moment, letting her get her bearings. She tried a couple more times.</p><p>"Would you accompany me to Halifax?" she asked abruptly. He blinked, taken aback.</p><p>"O-Of course. When do you want to go?" he asked her, confused, not being able to think of anything else.</p><p>"Next Saturday? Is that too soon? Do you already have plans?" she asked, looking gratefully at him. He shook his head. Even if he had them, he would cancel them. Why was she so distressed? "Oh, thank you, Gilbert. You're a true, true friend," she said, hugging him. He returned the hug, holding her tightly. He rubbed her back.</p><p>"Anne, I must know. What happened? Is everything alright?" he asked her, still concerned when they separated. She looked at her, eyes moist.</p><p>"Marilla is just… She's being so... I think she hates me. Why else would she deny me of my past, of my heritage?" he lifted an eyebrow. What was happening? She got up and started pacing, rambling, crying, explaining the discussion they had, how Matthew had indeed given her permission to continue her search, assuming there was someone who could go with her. "I thought… maybe you could escort me. The church where we think the records are is in Halifax, and I must know what happened to my parents, Gilbert. I just must know what happened to them, if they existed, if they're really dead. If they even wanted me"</p><p>"Absolutely. We will go. I had offered before, and it still stands. Whatever you need, count me in" he said, looking at her go from one side of the room to the other. When had she started wearing skirts and not only dresses? She sat back beside him, sighing. "Feel better?" he asked.</p><p>"I'm still furious, but I do feel calmer. Thank you for listening" she answered honestly. "So, Saturday?" she asked, looking at him with a question.</p><p>"Any Saturday. You just tell me and we can go whenever. I no longer go to Dr. Ward's practice, so I am free every weekend" he explained. "I'm glad I can help you with this, Anne," he said after a moment, holding her hand. "I understand how important it is for you," she nodded. They stayed silent for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the birds outside and Anne's nose. He squeezed her hand gently and got up, walking to his dresser to look for a handkerchief. He passed it to her and she snorted.</p><p>"I should learn to carry one of these things," she commented after blowing her nose. He laughed.</p><p>"They're useful little squares," he acknowledged, chuckling. "However, if you started carrying them, then how could I be of service?" he asked softly a moment later. He saw her small smile from the corner of his eye.</p><p>"You would have to find some other way, I suppose" she stated. "I'm sure you could. You're bright like that"</p><p>"Anne Shirley-Cuthbert," he said, mockingly impressed "did you just say I am bright?"</p><p>"Maybe I did," she said, defiantly. He laughed.</p><p>"Well, since you just declared that, may I say something?" he said earnestly, looking at her in the eye. She nodded. "Marilla does love you. Don't you ever doubt it. She considers you her daughter." Anne's answer was a sad, little, skeptical laugh as she looked at the floor. "Anne. She's only being… difficult, because she cares so much. I am sure. She's just scared that, if you find your <em>real</em> family, for lack of better words, you will somehow leave them," he explained, his voice serious. She looked at him as if he was mad. But he was sure: Marilla loved that dear girl as much as he did, and it was something he could understand. The pain and the fear of being left behind.</p><p>"I would never leave them. They're my family now, I belong to them. I just want to understand who I am. Where I come from" she explained. As if it was obvious. "What a way to show someone you care" she scoffed a few moments after. He hugged her with an arm.</p><p>"Sometimes you also do that. Pushing away the people you care for," he clarified, looking at her critically. She sighed.</p><p>"Can we please do something else?" she asked, her bad mood not entirely gone and clearly done with the subject. Gilbert let her go and looked at his desk.</p><p>"I can always use some help with math," he said, tentatively, and before long they were discussing the best way to solve the equations Miss Stacy had left as homework.</p><hr/><p>Saturday came very quickly, or so it seemed. Gilbert went to pick up Anne at the Cuthbert's early, so they would be in time for the first train. They had a long journey ahead. She was ready, excited, and said goodbye with a hug for Matthew and… a hug for Marilla, as well, when Gilbert gave her a pointed look.</p><p>"Save your comment, Anne. It's not right that you treat Marilla like that" he said as he shook the reins for the horse to move, waving his hand at the old couple. Anne didn't answer but looked at him furiously. They rode in silence for a while in the early morning quiet. He looked at her cautiously, after a couple of minutes, just to check her expression. She looked peaceful enough. "See those trees?" he said, motioning towards the blossomed trees on both sides of the road that had the beautiful remnants of sunrise light on them.</p><p>"The White Way of Delight," she said, as if it was an obvious answer. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting that. "Oh, it's just what I call it…"</p><p>"Right" Gilbert nodded. "I never paid much attention, as a kid. It was just another place from Avonlea we crossed on our way home, dad and I" he said, continuing his story. "But then when we came back from Alberta, three years ago… It was so overwhelmingly flowered that it seemed to be welcoming us back. That's what I told my father, anyway… to which he answered <em>to celebrate the return of the prodigal sons</em>."</p><p>"How wonderful! I hadn't thought about that extraordinary coincidence!" Anne exclaimed, smiling at him. "Of course they were welcoming you back, as they were welcoming me for the first time" she continued. "When you went back to school, I had only been at Green Gables for some weeks. The first time, when I came, I couldn't stop talking and pinching myself and kept asking Matthew about all these places… But the White Way of Delight caught my attention immediately" she said smiling, closing her eyes as if to remember and to enjoy the light breeze. Gilbert smiled at her fondly. He would have never imagined they would share such a similar memory concerning the Avenue. But something wasn't completely right.</p><p>"What do you mean, the first time?" he asked. She looked very uncomfortable, as if it wasn't a pleasant memory.</p><p>"There was a… misunderstanding. Something went missing, and they thought it had been me. Matthew didn't really want to, but they sent me back to the orphanage... " she seemed to shudder at the memory. "I didn't go back, turned back right on the door. Too many horrible memories, I've told you some of them. I decided I would make my way to Halifax, where I was born, and Matthew managed to find me at the ferry station where I was working to save wages for the ticket. He brought me home and then I signed in the family Bible and was officially adopted" she told the story fast, and Gilbert just looked at her, full of sorrow. He didn't know that had happened. "That's how I officially became Shirley-Cuthbert" she whispered, and <em>that</em> did look to bring her joy.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Anne… I didn't know that had happened" he said honestly.</p><p>"It doesn't matter. It has a happy ending and that's all that matters" she said, in a very firm voice. He nodded. It amazed him how she could convince herself of anything. "It's been nice… you know? To actually belong to someone?" she said, looking at him, and he felt a tug in the heart. "I got tossed around from one house to the other so many times that I almost lost hope. And then one day they told me someone wanted me, and not to be in service. I didn't even have time to prepare my things, everything was so fast and I was so excited" she chuckled at the memory, but then sobered up. "When I went back to the orphanage with Cole… It was bad. I didn't think I would recall so many things, but every corner seemed to talk to me and remind me of every… mockery, every prank" she was looking straight ahead, glassy eyes. He took both reins in one hand and gave her a light squeeze on her hand.</p><p>"You're here, now. Every memory you have only makes you stronger and helps build your character. Don't dismiss them" he said, taking the reins with both hands again and looking straight ahead.</p><p>"There are some memories I wish I could forget," she said, but didn't give any more information and he didn't press her.</p><hr/><p>Finding the church where Anne's parents' records would be was not hard, after the ferry and the next train ride. They were standing in front of it, a prudential distance between them. It was a nice, sturdy church, made of greystone. Gilbert looked at her and her hesitation.</p><p>"Do you want to go by yourself, or do you want me to accompany you?" he asked. She looked at him, unsure.</p><p>"Is it too bad that I want to do this on my own?" she asked him.</p><p>"Not at all. It's your search and your family. I can go take a look around, search somewhere we can have a bite and look for the train schedule, we forgot to look when we arrived. I'll be back in a while. Take your time, I can always wait" he said, and she motioned to go inside, nodding. "Anne?" he called her back "I'm sure everything will be good. And if not, we will figure out the next step, ok?" he said, and she nodded again. He waited until she was inside, and then went to take a look around town.</p><p>He had never been to Halifax before for more than a quick stop when he was aboard the steamer on the way to the Caribbean, and then he hadn't come down to see anything. It had been one of his first stops, and he was more concerned about finding his place in the boat. It was around those days when he met Sebastian during lunchtime. Halifax was a bustling city, with busy docks that reminded him of the months he had worked in Charlottetown but on a bigger scale. There was a street where he saw several little restaurants and thought one would be good for later. The next train to the ferry to Charlottetown didn't leave until five in the afternoon, so there was some time to be killed.</p><p>He went back to the church a couple of hours later and waited on one of the benches at the back. He took out the piece of paper from his pocket, as he used to do more or less frequently. <em>It always protects. </em>He was folding it back when Anne appeared from a side door. He stood and looked at her, gauging by her look how the search had gone. She saw him quickly and went to meet him. They walked outside.</p><p>"So?" he asked, smiling.</p><p>"I'm Scottish!" was the first thing she said, very excited. He smiled. That was nice to know, it helped understand where she came from. "My parents did die from a fever, weeks one from the other, as I was told at some point in life. So they didn't abandon me by their own will. Maybe… I was loved", she smiled at him, her eyes shiny, red a bit swollen. It looked like she had cried. He took a step closer to her and hugged her.</p><p>"I'm so glad, Anne-girl," he whispered. "So glad you can have that piece of heritage," he continued. She returned the hug. They separated and he smiled. "What's the next step?"</p><p>"I don't know…? Eat something? Have you eaten already?" she asked. Clearly, she hadn't thought of anything beyond this.</p><p>"No, I told you I would wait for you. Do you want to go first… maybe there is a cemetery where we can find their graves?" he counterproposed. Her eyes seemed to lit up with wonder. He didn't visit his father's grave frequently, but it was a comfort to know it was there. "As a fellow orphan, I can tell you it's nice to know at least the <em>option</em> of visiting exists," he said, making a reference to her words when his father passed and he took her advice so wrongly. She laughed.</p><p>"Fellow orphan, huh?" She asked as they walked around the small church, to look for the small cemetery. If they were on this registry, it only made sense they were there.</p><p>"You know, last of the family and all. In search of a new one", he looked at her. He might be jesting but was also a tad serious.</p><p>"As if you didn't have one. What about Sebastian, Mary and Delphine?"</p><p>"That's different. They are my siblings and my niece. But one day I hope to have my own," he said earnestly, as he opened the small gate and let her in before. "But, if you're going that way, you already have a family now, with the Cuthberts" he followed her.</p><p>"They are my family," she said. "I belong to them and I am so proud of it. But I understand what you mean," she continued after a moment, more concentrated on the graves than in their conversation. "Can you imagine? All these wonderful lives? How many fantastic experiences and stories are buried with these bodies?" She asked him. He was on the row parallel to the one she was walking on. Looking at names. One after the other.</p><p>"I can't, actually," he admitted. "It's so much… so much depth to each life, seeing all of these here goes beyond what I can grasp," he explained, reading name after name. Unknown name after unknown name. And then. A simple, generic, small grave, near the end of the row.</p><p>
  <em>In memory of</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bertha Shirley</em>
</p><p>
  <em>1859-1883</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And her beloved husband</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Walter Shirley</em>
</p><p>
  <em>1855-1883</em>
</p><p>He felt his heart actually stop for a second. He cleared his throat. "Anne?" He said, almost in a whisper. She looked at him and then hurriedly went to where he was standing. Gilbert looked as she froze in place like she was watching something that wasn't real. That could not be real. She looked at him, tears in her eyes, and he put his arm around her low back in support, bringing her closer to him. His own eyes glassy.</p><p>"I can't believe they're real," she murmured after a few minutes. "As a fellow orphan, you do know your thing. This is the most wonderful gift, Gil," she said, looking up at him. He looked at her in the eyes, watching not only the sorrow but also the peace that came from knowing, from having a place to come back to. He kissed her forehead.</p><p>"It's the least I could do, Anne-girl," he whispered tenderly and rested his head on hers. He didn't know how long they stayed there. After a while, she let go of him and told him she wanted to leave them some flowers. He helped her gather some of the spring flowers that were growing wildly in an adjacent field, and they left them on the grave. "Do you want to be alone for a moment?" he asked her softly, as they left the bunch. She nodded, and he walked around other parts of the cemetery to give her some privacy.</p><hr/><p>"May I invite you?" he asked when they entered a quaint little place, very hospitable and without any frills. It reminded him of the coffee shop they had gone to in Charlottetown. He held out the chair for him. Anne looked at him, trying to understand (as both of them knew Matthew had given her everything she needed for the journey, and then some more at Marilla's insistence), and then nodded, sitting down.</p><p>After talking with Bash a couple of days ago, about how to try to start getting Anne knowing he was interested in something more, being more gentlemanly in simple things had been a recurring thought. Mary had agreed. It wasn't too forward, it should get her to at least wonder if something was happening, and in some time he could try and up his game. Unless she repeatedly rejected him, and then he should take the hint. They were in a peaceful silence since they had left the cemetery, and Gilbert was in a good mood.</p><p>"Oh! Could you check what time the train leaves?" Anne asked him out of nowhere.</p><p>"5:00 pm, it's the only one today" he confirmed.</p><p>"Do we have time for one last errand? I just remembered the residential school Ka'kwet attends is here in Halifax. Do you think we could visit?" she asked, excited.</p><p>"Of course. We have time, it's only three in the afternoon" he conceded.</p><p>It turned out they didn't need much time in any case: there was nothing neither of them could say to persuade the nun at the entrance of letting them come in. Something seemed very fishy to Gilbert, but he didn't want to worry Anne and made a mental note to look more into it when he came back home. That building felt positively gloomy. Residential schools for Indians? Something was not right. He wrote down the information about the school. The ride back was in silence, some of the magic they had felt in the graveyard now lost. Both felt sobered after visiting the school and neither had many words to comment on it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. June</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The weather in June was so nice that someone dared to propose to take the class outside one day. They were just doing summer school to prepare for the entrance examinations at Queens, anyway. What was even more impressive had been Miss Stacy's willingness to do so: she instructed everyone to pick up their baskets, they were going to do a field trip to the forest and have a picnic lunch there. She gave many explanations Gilbert heard attentively while most of the others lagged, some girls making excuses for the guys to hold them, many a little laugh here and there. Who was walking with whom nowadays, and who had taken notice of that.</p><p>Anne seemed enthralled by the forest, but like she was in the company of a dear, old friend. He hadn't been there with her before. Only when he walked her back at Green Gables in the middle of the night, when it was dark. They didn't usually stop, unless she wanted to, always on the same log midway between their homes. Had he known how enamoured she was of every single tree, every flower, every bird, Gilbert would have made any excuse as to walk with her daily, just to hear her comments and look at her marvelled eyes.</p><p>And then Moody fell, and it was his turn to be amazed not only at the forest but also at its inhabitants and their knowledge. Since their return from Halifax, Gilbert had written to several places making inquiries regarding Anne's friend, Ka'kwet, to no avail. It seemed like no one had heard of her by her real name or the one they allegedly had given her in the school: Hannah. Why would they change her name was something he could not wrap his head around. He hadn't been able to even know if she was safe and it was getting on his nerves. But here it was her father, the kind mind who had sold him the hockey stick months ago, accompanied by the medicine woman from the tribe (he knew nothing either, as he heard when Anne asked him).</p><p>In ten minutes Gilbert had learnt more than in the last month with Dr. Ward. It seemed like they uncovered a veil. The possibilities were infinite! The medicines are probably readily available, just by understanding nature! Oh, could maybe Mary had had a less frightful infection had he known about the honey before? What other marvels were hidden in the forest? Was it possible for a doctor not only to treat its patients but also to research new and more effective ways to do so? He so wanted to believe there was a future for him in that profession. A future he had not seen very clearly in the last month.</p><p>When Gilbert came back home that night, Bash and a still convalescent Mary (the fever had weakened her more than any wanted to accept) heard him ramble for hours about everything he had never seen before. He even brought back some willow bark from the forest and made an infusion for Mary. He put a bit of honey, as it was bitter, and the pain in her hand subsided some for the first time in weeks a while later. He was so amazed he had no more words when they sat down to have dinner.</p><p>"By the way, this letter came for you, doc," Bash told him, passing him an envelope. He turned it to see the remittent and put it in his pocket. "Who's Winifred?" he asked, curious.</p><p>"She's just the cleaner at Dr. Ward's. We… I invited her to tea, more by impulse than anything else, one time when I was still doing the internship"</p><p>"And now she writes you letters? You know what you're doing, Blythe?" Bash asked him, surprised. Gilbert frowned. Of course, he knew. She was a friend. Nothing else, just as he had stated to her weeks ago when he had answered her first letter. He hadn't repeated it in the subsequent ones because he didn't see the need to do so and it wouldn't look good.</p><p>"Of course, Sebastian," he answered, earnestly. "She's just a friend. I told her so because I don't want her to have a wrong idea" Mary looked at him and shook her head. "What?"</p><p>"Gilbert, you're so innocent sometimes. Ridiculously mature most of the time, yes, but… you're being naive, here" she said. "Not all the women are as… let's just say, she probably knows very well what she is doing. Just make sure you are as well, and save yourself, her and Anne some heartache," Mary said, looking at him. Gilbert looked at the couple, confused. He had written he had no intentions with her. In the first letter. He had written that letter several times until he had been satisfied: clear and concise but not rude.</p><p>When he went upstairs, some time later, he took the envelope out of his pocket and looked at it critically before opening it. He scanned the letter. Was there any interest in her part? Anything that hinted she was interested in anything more?</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Dear Gilbert,</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Why, thank you for the invitation! I told my father and he agrees: who does not love a train ride? It is so providential that the county fair this year is over at your town. Fairs and dancing always put me in a good mood.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>It will be good to see you again, I'm very looking forward to that day. We will meet you at Bright River Station, on the midday train. Just remember our first tea, should you have any etiquette doubts, and we will be fine. No more mishaps and maybe you would be a welcome addition to the family? Father thinks there is so much potential in you.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Yours truly,</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Winnie</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>He froze with the paper on his hand.</p><p>"Bash?" he called, alarmed. His brother came upstairs, skipping steps, and appeared with an evident look of worry at his doorstep. He looked at him, worried. "I think Mary is right," Gilbert said. Then he corrected himself. "I <em>know</em> she is. But…"</p><p>"What do you mean, Blythe? You scared the living daylights out of me!" he said.</p><p>"Winifred. She's coming to the fair. With her parents. She seemes to think it's an official outing or something" he said. He did <em>not</em> want to go on an outing that appeared as courting with her. The only person he wanted to go on such things was Anne, and he should have asked her weeks ago, probably. He hadn't thought about the county fair as a place for courting. But instead, he had been convinced by Winifred that it would be good for her to visit Avonlea and for him to meet her <em>parents</em>.</p><p>"Are you serious, Blythe? Meeting the parents? This gal doesn't think you're a friend, where did you get that notion?" Bash asked him, after taking the letter of his still frozen hands and reading it quickly.</p><p>"I… I just told her. After she wrote the first letter, around when I stopped the internship at Dr. Ward's, I answered and told her I had no intention to be involved with her in any relationship other than a friend. And she insisted her father wanted to meet me because he has some knowledge and contacts about where to study medicine and then she said…"</p><p>"Stop. You're rambling. I don't even want to know. The fair is from this Saturday to the next. It would be rude of you to write to her now and tell her not to come. Just be polite during the day and then be <em>honest</em> before she leaves and you make yourself more of a fool, Blythe. Honesty is the best course of action" Bash said. Gilbert nodded. Why did he feel so freaked about this?</p><p>"Bash. I… How did I get mixed in this?"</p><p>"I have no idea, doc. But you're knee-deep if parents are involved. She evidently thinks you could propose at some point soon, especially if her parents like you and she's speaking of you like cattle. An addition to the family..." he scoffed as he shook his head, and left him alone in his room with a pat on his shoulder. He left the letter on his desk on his way out.</p><p>Gilbert sat, unsure of what to do. Probably, the best course of action had just been described by Bash. Show them around the fair, be polite, and leave very clear his non-existent intentions with Winnie before anything else could happen. He could do that. How hard could it be?</p><hr/><p>The week didn't improve his views around courting. Anne, Winifred… He was reading the paper with Miss Stacy one day, as he had taken on doing for the past few months. They were having an interesting conversation about the Sorbonne and antitoxins, prompted by some research that was being done there, with Anne pitching in the conversation casually. It was good. Motivating. Miss Stacy even had a friend at the University of Toronto that she could introduce to him to look further into the matter. She seemed to recall they had a medical research program. All was good until Diana came running and dragged Anne telling her she had "been noticed" by Charlie. <em>Damn board.</em></p><p>He had been in a bad mood after that but really, what could he say? It wasn't as if he had any stake in what the redhead thought, felt or decided. At least she looked as unimpressed by the notice as he felt. And then, just to make things worse, Miss Stacy had made a point of reminding them that the next day, Friday, they would be staying late to practice for the barn dance.</p><p>He didn't want to dance. Honestly, he didn't. Bash and Mary made fun of him when he arrived home in a bad mood because he had dancing in his near future.</p><p>"But what's the problem, Blythe?" Bash asked him, stifling a laugh. "You danced all around the Caribbean. I am positive you're not half as bad because you actually learnt something back in Trinidad once you managed to keep down the babash. And I'm pretty sure here the dances are…" Gilbert felt his ears get red.</p><p>Oh, he had danced all right all through the ports of call. Shy at first, as he was used to much more modest and proper, society-approved dances, Bash and the others from the ship had made sure he lost his awkwardness and introduced him to an array of rhythms he never could have imagined on his own. He learnt that dancing was perfect for forgetting the moment, for exploring, for playing a game, innocent or not, with the partner… And maybe, just maybe, that was what scared him the most. He knew here it would not be an ingenuous jest, not like it had been in Trinidad. If he danced with Anne… he wasn't sure what could happen, to be honest. Because never before had he danced with someone who meant as much to him as this woman did.</p><p>"Yes, they're formal and stiff, I do know that Sebastian. My father made sure I learnt when we were in Alberta. But I don't want to. Honest. No need" he managed to answer in a strained voice a moment after, a deep line between his eyebrows as he furrowed his brow.</p><p>"Gilbert, honey, why don't you want to dance? Why don't you partner with Anne?" Mary asked him, getting concerned about his negative. Because she knew as well as Bash that Gilbert enjoyed the music immensely. He sang when he was in a good mood all the time. It was just out of character for him not to look forward to the opportunity.</p><p>"That's just it" he admitted. "What if I make a fool of myself? What if she is in one of those days where she avoids me? Or worse, what if she seeks to partner with someone else, like Charlie Sloan, or I end up with Ruby Gillis of all people?" he said that because those were legitimate concerns. And because he just could not admit to them that he was afraid of dancing with the redhead and… letting himself get lost in there.</p><p>"You're reading too much into this, Blythe," Bash told him, as he patted lightly Delly on the back to help her get some gas out. Colics seemed to have subsided a bit. "It's a school dance practice. <em>Nothing</em> is going to happen because <em>nothing</em> <em>exciting</em> ever happens at practices. And it's j<em>ust dancing. Fun.</em> Nothing more into it than any of the other times you have danced before. So you just go, stand fairly close to Anne so when they group you it's easy for you to partner with her without being very noticed, and <em>enjoy the dance like you always do.</em> I mean, you're probably not going to have any real music anyway so it will be awkward for everyone, isn't it, Mary?" she nodded.</p><p>"You go and enjoy, Gilbert. Don't think about it. There's nothing to it. You enjoy dancing, so just go dancing and be patient with all the others that have never done that before. Ad if you can't partner with her, don't worry, there will be other chances" she added. Gilbert frowned.</p><p>"So I just dance?" he asked. Could he separate his feelings from the whole endeavour? Was that feasible?</p><p>"It's a dance practice, Blythe" Bash looked at him, like it was obvious. "You dance."</p><hr/><p>At first, it was exactly like Bash had said: he stood fairly close to Anne but not enough to attract attention to that. He ended in her group. There was some really weird dancing done to the rhythm of Mrs. Lynde's claps and he honestly thought he had been worrying for nothing. Ruby was clearly worried about something and, after speaking with all the girls and even Miss Stacy, she decided not to participate. Moody was just watching, as his leg was still on the mend. Gilbert had just checked it and it impressed him to no end the evolution of his wound, especially in contrast to what Mary had endured. Was still enduring.</p><p>And then he offered to play his banjo. That's when…</p><p>She must have felt it. <em>She absolutely must.</em></p><p>He managed to be in her group again. Not as her dance partner, who would be Charlie (he tried not to think ill of his childhood friend), but in front of her. Moody started playing and everything made more sense than with just the claps. He felt the music, as he had done so many times before, and couldn't help but smile a bit, helping guide the group with the brunette, who also had an idea of what she was doing. Mrs. Lynde's son, who for some reason was there, did as well. He knew his thing, being several years their senior and evidently having attended his fair share of barn dances. They were very soon very synchronized, the six of them. He was actually enjoying it. And that's when he felt Anne's eyes on his. Her half-smile. And a mad thought came to his mind. Maybe he could think of something to dance with her and not with Diana. Snatch her from Charlie's hands. He smiled. Didn't seem like she would mind, now, did it?</p><p>Then it may have appeared as if the six of them were dancing, but really,<em> it seemed more and more as if it was just the two of them, despite them not being even partners in it</em>. The others were just accessories, as far as he was concerned. He only had eyes for Anne. The expressions they shared. The playfulness they put into the moves like every dance should have. Him, holding her hand softly but firmly and guiding her. Their eyes never leaving each others', even when the dance choreography required them to do some steps with the others from the group because she was with Charlie and he was with Diana. They were always looking for the other. Just like they did everywhere else.</p><p>At some point, Gilbert couldn't help himself. He smiled at her, teasing her to see how far she dared to go. Directly <em>flirting</em> with her for the first time. Feigning a seriousness that was all game. <em>And she had played along.</em> When he held her hand and twirled her, maybe a tad more energetically than what was needed, she just held to him and smiled, as if telling him to continue. He had effectively messed up with all the couples in the group, a<em>nd she had accepted it and hadn't let go of his hand, actually holding it tighter.</em> Charlie didn't skip a beat, same as Diana, accommodating, and they were all in sync again.</p><p>It truly felt like it was just the two of them from that point onwards. An unspoken game. A stolen smile. A tiny caress of his fingers on her hands. Her eyes on him, as if something was changing and she was looking at him for the first time. When he offered his hand before it was strictly necessary for the next step, she had taken it as she looked at him in the eyes, smiling with some new knowledge. Ignoring the person on her other side as if he didn't exist. Exactly like he was doing with Jane, in front of him, for whom he couldn't care a bit less at that moment. Fingers lingering when they absolutely had to let go. Just before the end, they resumed their original positions. Her in front of him. At least knowing how to dance paid off and he could manage to dance with her in an impulse he would never admit. Even if it was…</p><p>They almost didn't realize it was over and made a small, late curtsy and bow without taking their eyes off each other. Everyone seemed to be gone very fast and suddenly they were the only ones standing in the front of the classroom, a slight smile in each of their faces. <em>Something</em> had happened there. Beyond the changing couples thing in the middle. Or maybe because of the ease with which that had happened. He reacted a second or two after that and his eyebrows went up in recognition, but he could not take his eyes off from her. She neither. He just nodded, almost imperceptibly, because whatever had happened <em>(what exactly had that been? Who changes partners mid-dance?)</em> had felt as right as breathing. He sighed, still tense. Maybe…? She blinked suddenly, as if going out of a trance, and went very fast to get her things.</p><p>They met again at the door as if they had magnets, while everyone was talking excitedly about the coming dance on the back. It was like something was just attracting them. He didn't fully understand what had just happened. It had just been instinctual, passional, completely irrational. Beyond any dance he had done before, proper or not, formal or not. This dance had just been one of the more intimate moments he recalled in his life, and it left him feeling even more troubled than he had felt the night before when he had dreaded this.</p><p>By the look she gave him, he knew she was as troubled as he was. Because it had felt so right there was no going back, now.</p><hr/><p>"I don't understand it," he told Bash later, as they prepared dinner. Mary was over at Mrs. Stacy, who had invited her for tea with little Delphine. The teacher had become increasingly close not only with the Cuthberts but also with her and Delphine. Bash and Gilbert were just so happy Mary had someone else to confide in.</p><p>"You don't <em>understand</em> it?" His brother answered as he supervised Gilbert putting some spices in the broth. He was still learning, after all, and was improving little by little. Even if it was purely for survival purposes: he knew we would never be good at cooking and it wasn't something that kept him up at night.</p><p>"Dancing" Gilbert clarified. "What's the point?" He hadn't been able to shake off his mood after the practice. He was still trying to understand how he had done it, how he had managed to actually dance with Anne. He could never repeat the steps he had improvised, even if someone paid him to do it. Bash looked at him as if he was mental.</p><p>"There is no point, Blythe. It is just fun. What point did you think it should have in Trinidad? How did the practice go? As awkward as we told you, to the point you're thinking this?" he asked "Put more salt in it" and he went back to chopping carrots. Gilbert was silent for a moment.</p><p>"It's just that. It can't be just fun. Not when…" he tried the soup again. "I think it's good to go now, Bash" the other one tried it and nodded. Gilbert sighed, looking at the boiling pot. That was soothing, he thought. The bubbles. "I did manage to dance with Anne. And… I don't know what happened. I can't explain it. But the purpose of that, I don't understand. It wasn't fun, even if it was" he continued slowly, in a lower voice. Bash looked at him as he added the carrots. "It was…"</p><p>"Don't overthink it, doc" he said and Gilbert chuckled. He <em>did</em> overthink everything. It was probably nothing. "If it felt good, it was good. Pure and simple. There's no need to read anything else into it"</p><hr/><p>A couple of days later the girls ambushed him on the entrance to the church, just when mass finished. Gilbert had almost managed to clear his mind from what had happened during the dance practice just on Friday, trying to follow Bash's advice. He was saying goodbye to the bank manager after setting a date for an appointment when he saw them. It was their turn to give out the newspapers and then they pushed Anne in front of him. So <em>she</em> could ask <em>him</em> if passionate, emotional, rational women (just like herself) lose the ability to have children. What were these gals on?! How could they have reached this absurd notion?! And why, oh, <em>why</em> did they have to ask <em>him</em>? Have <em>her</em> ask? Couldn't their mothers help with the issue?</p><p>He tried to reassure them, praying that they had no more questions. He didn't want to know how they had reached this conclusion or what other voids they had in the issue. Reproduction was not his preferred subject to talk about with schoolgirls in general, but very especially with Anne when he didn't know how she felt about him. He hopped at some point, maybe, they would talk about it. <em>In private.</em> Ideally with her having some notion beforehand.</p><p>"Is that all?" he asked, as uncomfortable with the conversation as it was humanly possible, and heard Tillie on the back whispering to Anne to ask him about the steps. She made some indistinguishable noise and he seized the chance before she collected her thoughts. "Good day, then," he said, touching his cap, ending the conversation for good. He certainly was <em>not</em> going to explain them, explain Anne in front of them, the… mechanics of having children. Out of the question. <em>No way.</em></p><p>In theory, he was returning home, but he felt unsettled after talking to the girls and instead decided to take a walk around the forest, even if he was in his dress shoes and they were uncomfortable at best. How could these girls entertain such notions about pregnancy? He knew it was not something that was taught at school, and he could understand why. It would be improper, with all of them there and… no, definitely no. Gilbert understood it was not a topic for school. But their mothers? Shouldn't their mothers tell them something, instead of having them vexed with this nonsense? Could it be really that they only learnt about… sex when they married and were put in the position they had to have a crash course just before the ceremony, or the...? Or was that a conversation the mothers had with them, when the miss was already engaged? It baffled him. They had to have at least questions about menstruation! They just endured that every single month without questioning its purpose and… could they, really? Weren't they curious, at the very least?</p><p>Somehow, amidst his thoughts, Gilbert found himself in the ruins of what seemed like an old and apparently repurposed and then destroyed hunting hut. He could tell something really special had taken place there. There seemed to be something magical, ethereal and utterly sad, between the ruins and the pieces of clay figures. Then he remembered Anne, how she had told him months ago about that place. How Billy had destroyed it. It seemed barren now of all personal things, the last being the sign of their story club and the clay pieces. He smiled sadly at the look of it. Deciding to sit for a while on one of the logs, he couldn't help but think about the redhead.</p><p>It was very evident she had believed that ridiculous notion, of passionate women being barren, at least to the degree she had found value in asking him. In finding the evident braveness to do so as the subject was indeed uncomfortable for her. Could she honestly not know… anything? Who was supposed to tell her? Marilla? Her future husband? <em>Him?!</em> For years, it seemed, he had known he wanted her to be his wife. For years as well, he had known everything it implied, and how he desired her in every way. But not that she wouldn't know about any of it.</p><p>Could it be him, the one to introduce her to all of this, if he managed to gain her favour? Gilbert had never even entertained the notion that it could be this way. Never. Not because he didn't understand sex, reproduction and everything in between. And he was all about being patient, no problem there. What bothered him was… But it really could not be true that… It seemed to him that…</p><p>Gilbert sighed forcibly, not even understanding the anxiety he felt around the subject. It just seemed so… unfair that he happened to know all these things and she didn't. He couldn't even remember when his father had explained everything to him, but he seemed to recall it had been when their mare had a calf, and he had nagged him with questions for days on end. He was probably around eight.</p><p>Then he had been travelling around the Caribbean and exploring everything he could in an attempt to get to know himself, but also to get Anne out of his head. Because at the time it had seemed like the best thing to do, even if now he knew better. Gilbert didn't regret his adventure with one of the young ladies on the steamer, but the purpose had not been achieved and a deep void and yearning had taken place inside him, leaving him wondering how it was when real, deep love was involved. Physical attraction was clearly not enough, and he still felt he must have hurt the gals' feelings. He remembered Bash's skepticism and slight disapproval, and the subject had become a taboo between them. Well, at least he matured <em>some</em> after that.</p><p>Last year, as Mary's birth neared, he had explored the anatomical part of the subject in-depth, borrowing books from Dr. Ward's library, to prepare and to be able to help her in any way he could. He understood now how the reproductive organs worked. Every change that took place in every step of the woman's cycle and pregnancy, at least as well as it was explained in the book printed in 1887. The role of men in the process.</p><p>So, between studies and life experiences, he had some decent knowledge. Yes, probably better and more extensive than the one Charlie Sloan had, but he was pretty sure Charlie knew how everything worked better than Anne. And, being completely honest, Gilbert didn't even know how to feel about it.</p><p>It scared him, he decided. Not because he would not explain everything to Anne in the most loving manner he could muster, if necessary. Gilbert was sure he would do so, and answer her questions as good as his experience allowed. The fear didn't come either because she might feel pressured. He knew he would go only a bit at a time, as she felt comfortable and as she asked for more. He was determined that she would be the one to set the pace in their eventual relationship. If Anne ever wanted to be with him, then they would have their whole lives, because he knew they would marry. It didn't even matter to him if she wanted to wait until then to have sex or not. He felt it made no difference in the slightest and he had not waited. It wouldn't be fair to expect her to do so if she didn't care for it, if there were ways to prevent an untimely pregnancy.</p><p>Anyway, he knew how to be patient. He loved her so. But it just didn't feel right, to have this kind of power, of knowledge, of definitive advantage. Because it sure felt like that. What about the girls who didn't marry someone who loved them dearly and wanted to explain, to explore with them, who was all game for taking everything slowly, for lovingly explaining and never pressuring? Women who married the likes of Billy Andrews?</p><p>Gilbert stayed there until he could no longer ignore the numbness in a leg. He got up, stretching, and was about to head home when something caught his attention. A little, perfectly soft and white seashell. He knew who it had belonged to: Diana and Ruby were not the kind to collect this kind of thing, and Cole would have rather painted it than collected it. He picked it up, feeling the softness of the sea-washed edges with his fingers, and put it in his pocket.</p><p>Gilbert felt he needed something to remember this day. So he didn't forget the innocence Anne would most probably have if she ever agreed to be with him. To marry him.</p><hr/><p>The next day at school Anne just avoided him. Ignored him blatantly, not even answering his greeting. Same as she did for most of the next day until they ended in opposite debate groups. She just argued everything Gilbert said (she was not as callous with his teammates, he could tell). He frowned more than usual and started doing the same. At first, as a game. Because he did love to debate with her. He always found it so, so interesting, to have a glimpse at how she thought. But then, with every answer, it turned into something more.</p><p>They hadn't competed like this since they met years ago, before his father died, but it became very evident as the rest of the class participated less and less and just let them expose more and more arguments that "compete" didn't seem to be enough of a word to describe what was happening. In the end, they were all staring at the two of them, debating. Because even Miss Stacy couldn't seem to find a reason to stop them: they weren't fighting. They weren't discussing. Their arguments were well rounded. They hadn't even raised their voice or spoken out of turn. <em>Nothing</em>. In the end, she had to stop the debate without a clear winner, because it was already late and they both seemed to be on a row with new and stronger arguments just flowing and flowing. At least, they tied. Both seemed relieved.</p><p>The pattern continued throughout the week. Somehow they diverted back to their initial pattern of communication: a competence and a teasing. Who would answer first? Who would have the right answer? Only this time, he wasn't relenting. He wasn't letting the e out on purpose like he had done when they were kids. They were no longer <em>kids</em>. Even if Anne didn't know about… intimacy, they were not kids anymore.</p><p>Gilbert could feel Diana's eyes on him as he gave the correct answer. He could feel the confusion their classmates, who hadn't seen this for years, had. Miss Stacy didn't seem to know what to do, because they were not doing anything wrong and they were just… outpacing the rest. Not one wrong answer. Nothing out of line. Not a rude word. Absolutely nothing reproachable. He had to admit, he was secretly proud of the two of them: able to do this in such a fine way there was no room for criticism or reproach, but just a full-on personal duel.</p><p>Bash and Mary didn't seem to understand why all of a sudden he was studying so hard at night and he couldn't explain to them how a <em>dance practice</em> had suddenly turned into an unspoken competition with Anne to see which of the two would give in first. He just knew it wasn't going to be him. He didn't even know why he was doing it.</p><p><em>Well</em>.</p><p>He did, actually: out of the sheer frustration he felt around her. Not only because of what he could only describe as sexual tension of some sort, but also because he had not been able to shake the anxiousness that crept on him when he thought <em>she would have no idea of what sex was</em>, but mostly because he had believed something had happened on the practice. Something she had felt too. He had been so, so sure. And then she had ignored him. Not like when she just greeted him and went about her days speaking with her friends, but as in <em>I don't know you and certainly won't answer to your greeting or anything you say in my general direction</em>. Like on their first day of class together. The only way they seemed to be able to communicate when she was like this was by competing in everything they could. Because the alternatives were him kissing her just to see how she reacted to <em>that</em> (this would help all of his frustrations, so bonus points for it) or making such a bad joke that she would break her slate on his head again and they weren't using them for school anymore.</p><p>They weren't even going to school anymore, in all honesty. They had just kept going after the classes had officially stopped and Miss Stacy had made it clear that she could continue to prepare them for the exams during the summer months. So the ten or so who had any interest in furthering their studies kept going as if it was a regular class. They kept writing the newspaper. They kept writing essays. Miss Stacy kept leaving them the same homework. Even Diana, who everyone knew was going to finishing school in Paris, was attending, probably out of boredom in summer without any of her girlfriends. But they weren't using slates that could be used as weapons anymore. They were not kids. And he just wasn't going to kiss her like that, even if it was something that fueled his fantasies at night.</p><p>So he competed with all his might.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. July</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The county fair was the first weekend of July. A much-expected affair, everyone in town was talking about it. Gilbert was actually dreading it. He resolved he would have as good a time as he could, but he would speak with Winifred before leaving her family at Bright River again. He felt torn with the whole business: he wanted to get to know Winnie better, because she seemed like such a good, fun friend, but didn't want to create false expectations.</p><p>With Anne, he didn't know what to think. After that dance, when he had felt so sure about everything? About maybe believing she had felt something too? The following week in school she had avoided him like he had the plague.<em> She couldn't have felt the same as him if she acted that way.</em> Then they had continued with that insane competition in class every single day. Gilbert was sure that if they kept up with it Miss Stacy was going to have a word with them and he had no idea what he was going to answer. So while he wanted to make clear to Winnie he was not interested in her in a romantic way, he also kind of wanted to see, just for himself, if maybe he could be. It didn't make sense. But feelings rarely did make sense, right?</p><p>"How do I look?" Gilbert asked Bash, after putting on the third shirt the day before the fair, trying to decide what to put on. Why was he so nervous?</p><p>"Blythe, it's a white shirt" Mary was gone to visit Miss Stacy after being exasperated by Gilbert and his apparent inability to decide anything that day. "If you are so sure you want nothing with Winifred then why put so much effort into your look?"</p><p>"I…. This is the only time I have to make a good impression on her parents. It's important" he explained, as he had already several times that morning as if it was obvious. It was important, just in case.</p><p>"And why is it that you need to make a good impression? Have you changed your mind and want to be with her?"</p><p>"You know, Bash, she's a good friend. Easy to be with. Easy to talk to" he explained again. Except when she was so hung up on etiquette he couldn't joke or speak freely. "I think that's a good thing. I can get to know her better and see how it goes."</p><p>"How it goes? Is being with her easy enough that you want to spend the rest of your days with her?" Bash insisted. Gilbert looked at his vest, and then in the mirror of Bash and Mary's room. He looked good. He thought he did, anyway.</p><p>"I'm not looking that far ahead," he said because, with Winnie, he honestly wasn't. He could get to know her better and see how things evolved. Keep his options open, maybe? The only time he had seen a clear future was with Anne, who didn't seem to notice him much except to flush and lose her words every once in a while, and then ignoring him for weeks. But that didn't mean she was interested in anything else than being a good family friend. No, this vest wasn't going to make it. Maybe the grey one?</p><p>"Just remember what I told you. Once parents get involved, she's thinking about marriage" he shook his head, dismissing his brother's words. That could not be true, Winnie was reasonable and they were just writing letters. "Remember, addition to the family?" he teased him, insisting. He threw the discarded vest at him. Bash caught it in the air as he laughed.</p><p>"I told you. I'm going to show them around as her friend. <em>If</em>, and I really do mean <em>if</em>, something changes about the way I feel, I will consider something else. In the distant future. For now, she's a friend. I'm fond of her."</p><p>"She's easy to be with, I get it, Blythe. I understand why you're settling on her" Bash said. Gilbert looked at him.</p><p>"I'm not settling," he said. Because he was not. Was he?</p><p>"If you say so," Bash answered, not paying him much more attention.</p><p>"Hey Bash, have you seen my cufflinks?" he asked. After a few minutes, when they found the empty box, it became evident: they had been taken by Elijah with all the medals. He just made a quick run to the Cuthbert's and asked an astonished Matthew to lend him his for the day.</p><p>Anne had been in the kitchen, red eyes as if she's been crying. She had reacted the same as the rest of the week: avoiding him, disappearing from the room and somehow sneezing very loudly from her window just when he was leaving. It somehow gave him some confirmation to what he felt: she couldn't feel anything for him if she kept acting that way.</p><hr/><p>Gilbert picked up the Rose family in the buggy at Brightriver Station, after leaving the rest of his family at the fair. They were so fancy, so high society, well dressed, posh. Winnie even had a useless crocheted parasol. Her parents were very kind and her father did seem to have a sense of humour. He felt the stiffness of protocol and the need to select every word carefully, but also the apparent welcome they were giving him. Winnie seemed to be interested in him in a way Anne had never been, but different from Ruby's blatant obsession.</p><p>It didn't feel too bad, to be honest.</p><p>When they arrived at the fair, the gal was instantly on his arm, the four of them going as a group and enjoying the scenery of the different attractions, music and entertainers. Gilbert hadn't been in a county fair for years. He remembered last time he went when his father still wasn't sick and he had just run around with the rest of the boys. How much fun he had that day, playing with Moody and Charlie, making innocent pranks on the girls.</p><p>This time everything felt, in the light and fun ambiance, so much more serious and definitive. But not decisively wrong. Winnie's father was so interesting to talk to. At least until he asked, out of the blue, what his intentions were with Winnie. The girl had a fit of cough and stayed behind with her mother as he tried to make clear, without being rude, that he had <em>no</em> intentions with her. At least, not for now. He hoped he had been clear because her father bringing up the subject had been a perfect excuse for him to state his stance in the matter.</p><p>After walking around some more, and introducing his family to the Roses, they went together to see the cake tournament prize. Bash was pushing Mary in the wheelchair where she had Delly on her arms, still too weak to be able to stand the whole afternoon. Anne was competing with Mary's cake, and the three of them wanted to see how the redhead fared. Gilbert was crossing his fingers to send her good luck (not speaking to her didn't mean he didn't wish her well) and Mary was so sure Anne had what it took. Bash was just sending him subtle looks to make him understand how he disapproved of the whole Winnifred endeavour.</p><p>Easily finding the Cuthberts, they were just in time for the moment the judges were going to try Anne's cake. Gilbert had wanted to see the decoration but had been distracted. He hoped to be able to see it before it got all cut up. Anne arrived, running, just as he was presenting the Rose family to the Cuthberts. She was a sight to behold. Her hair loose, curling in the ends, she was wearing such a beautiful blue dress he had never seen before. It brought out her eyes so much. Eyes who right now had the most astonished expression, as if she didn't know what to make out of Winnie. Gilbert went out of his shock and decided to introduce them, lest the moment became even more uncomfortable.</p><p>"This is Anne, my classmate and family friend" because he really couldn't think of how else to describe her at that moment. He couldn't say <em>the girl I was intending to court but I'm not so sure today so I brought you here</em>. So there it was, classmate and family friend. Both were true enough.</p><p>"Hello, Anne. Do you spell it with, or without an e?" was Winifred's answer. And he couldn't believe her look, because he knew for a fact how important the <em>e</em> was to her, but it was as if Winnie was insulting her.</p><p>"Anne, this is my…eh..." he trailed off, at a loss of word. He had decided to continue, just to cut the tension, but he managed to make it worse and felt Bash laugh behind him. <em>Not now, Bash.</em> What was Winifred? How could one qualify a non-existent relationship with someone you hoped would become your friend but were open enough to see if it could evolve some more in a future if nothing worked out with the person you loved but was decidedly ignoring you those days?</p><p>"Winifred", the blonde said, extending her hand. Which Anne shook, so reluctantly, and then turned and ignored them, only talking with Mary and Marilla. As the judges tried her cake. And somehow everything got even worse. He couldn't help running after her.</p><p>"It's fine. I'm fine," she said when he managed to catch up with her. "Honestly, I wish you two <em>every</em> happiness" he furrowed. <em>What?!</em></p><p>"I just… was going to say… Mary is laughing so much back there" he didn't know what else to say. She thanked him (<em>why?</em>) and then she ran away. Again. He didn't see her for the rest of the afternoon. The Rose family was still there when he got back, talking with Bash. Mary and Marilla were discussing what could have happened with Anne's cake.</p><hr/><p>He somehow managed to get himself in the same dance group as Winnie and Anne and it had been the most uncomfortable moment of the day. And considering everything that had happened, it was something. He decided then not to dance anymore that night (<em>ever,</em> as far as he was concerned) and had settled to talk with Winnie and her parents and watch the dancing from the distance. He felt Anne's eyes on him sometimes, but then she went dancing with Charlie. Who had <em>taken notice</em> of her recently.</p><p>"So, Gilbert, I heard you're going to Charlottetown to present the entrance exams for Queens?" Mr. Rose asked him at some point in the night. "I thought you could present them here".</p><p>"That's right, sir. Usually, you can, but for the Medicine Faculty they have different exams and you have to travel to campus to present them. And that exam is the same one that the U of T requires, an option I'm still looking into."</p><p>"I understand. Well, if you finish early be sure to come for dinner, we'll be glad to have you".</p><p>"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it" he answered, and then noticed something. He wasn't sure what had happened, but Anne was yelling at Billy Andrews and then Josie Pie was running out of the barn, crying. He hoped it was nothing much. But looking at the fury in Anne's face, he couldn't be so sure. Not much later, it was time for them to leave: they had added an extra train service late that night at Bright River and he was dropping the Roses there.</p><p>"Don't forget to let us know if you can come when you present your exam, Gilbert," Mrs. Rose told him when they were already on the platform. "We really liked making your acquaintance and would love to get to know you better"</p><p>"You're a fine young man, Gilbert. I can understand why Winnie is so happy with you" Mr. Rose said, and the blonde girl gave him a nudge, half embarrassed, but happy.</p><p>"Thank you, sir, madam," he said. "I'll be sure to let you know. Have a safe trip home, Winnie. We will keep in touch" he said to the girl, who smiled at him. Thank god for propriety in moments like this, because it allowed him to maintain all the distance he wished for at the moment. They were soon gone, and he was back to his house.</p><hr/><p>"<em>Classmate and family friend?</em>" was the first thing Bash said to him as he entered the house. "That's how you call Anne?"</p><p>"Bash, how… what could I have said?" he defended himself.</p><p>"And then you introduce <em>Winifred</em> to <em>Anne</em> and don't know what to say? I do hope you are more clear as to what you want after today" Gilbert sighed. If anything, he was much more confused.</p><p>"Stop harassing the boy, Sebastian" Mary entered the kitchen. "Delphine's asleep, so I will appreciate it if you can keep it down or go to the living room. You want to speak about any of this, Gilbert?" he shrugged. He didn't know.</p><p>"I'll just go to bed. I guess everything will make more sense in the morning" he said and went to his room, leaving the couple with concerned looks.</p><hr/><p>Gilbert grabbed a newspaper on his entrance to the church and immediately noticed something was different. This was not what they had printed the day before. He sat and scanned the front page and felt his heart skip a beat out of dread. <em>The Fair Issue.</em> He read the article quickly and the feeling just intensified. Not because he didn't see the value in the words: he agreed heartily with all of them and would only change some the wording, just because he had a different style. It just was not what they had written the day before. Anne had changed the whole thing. Miss Stacy sat beside him, and he passed the newspaper when she asked about the general discomfort of the congregation. He still wanted to keep it, though. He wanted to show it to Mary, as he was so sure she would love every word.</p><p>"Why didn't you talk some sense into our flame-headed Robespierre?" Miss Stacy asked him. As if she had seen them converse for a second in the past week that hadn't been part of a class debate. And as if he (or anyone, for that matter) had any influence in her actions.</p><p>"We didn't know" was all he could say. And he did want a word with her. More than one, if he was being honest. He was pissed off. Not even about the article <em>per se,</em> because he agreed with the whole thing. But about her general attitude towards him and going behind their backs.</p><p>They all agreed to meet at the schoolhouse after lunch to discuss what to do next. And that made it even worse: she apparently was convinced he was negotiating his wedding with Winnie's father.</p><p><em>Just</em> what he had wanted her to imagine, he thought angrily. The only thing that stopped him from giving her a piece of his mind at that moment had been Miss Stacy, who gave a halt to the discussion and took Anne to her office. Just in time. Because it gave him time to collect himself <em>some</em> before losing it completely. When Gilbert arrived home later that afternoon he still had not spoken to her. She either said something plain rude and accusatory or ignored him completely, and he hadn't wanted to force the issue that day. He was just too angry about the whole endeavour to trust himself talking to her.</p><p>"How did the meeting go?" Mary asked him. Six-month-old Delphine was giggling and trying to get hold of her mother's necklace. Gilbert looked at her and shook his head. Not even the walk home had appeased him. "That bad?"</p><p>"It's not even that I don't agree with her words, Mary. That's not it. I agree with them. Probably would have changed the redaction of something, but the general idea, I'm all for it. Did you read the articles?" Mary nodded.</p><p>"They were good, I agree. Maybe not for a community as traditional as this one…"</p><p>"I don't discuss that. They're way too forward for Avonlea. But that's not even what bothers me the most. It's just that she went behind us. I would have supported her and would have even helped her print the whole thing. I'm pretty sure many others as well. And we could all have contributed to making more of a united front, to pitch in more articles regarding fairness and equality we all know are in dear need in this town. But she just decided to go alone" he vented. Mary nodded.</p><p>"That would have been good, I agree. Because the issue has so much potential, but it is missing some key points" she said. And he knew what she meant: the issue was focused on fairness, but only saw it from a woman's perspective. That was important and needed to be addressed. But if the issue was to be focused on fairness and not just women, there were deep voids in it. The Miqma'qs. The Lacroix and all the people in the Bog. The Acadians. And the list went on and on.</p><p>"<em>Exactly</em>" he paced around the room. "So much potential for a great issue, just gone to waste because of her hastiness," he said. He continued pacing in silence.</p><p>"That's the only thing that is troubling you? Your frown is just as deep as it gets" she asked after a moment of him going up and down the room. He looked at her, still angry at Anne's words concerning Winnifred. "Just out with it. <em>Now</em>" she said, looking at him earnestly in her no-nonsense voice. Gilbert was sure Delphine would be the most well-behaved girl in the world with a mother with such a tone.</p><p>"Anne has ignored me for a week. As in not even returning a greeting. What's more, she has been competing with me in class like when she arrived and it was the only way to talk civilly. And today she just blurts at me she believes I was negotiating Winifred like she's a piece of cattle," he said. There. Done it.</p><p>"You <em>did</em> give that impression, honey, and the whole town was there," she said to him, honestly, looking at him in the eyes. He sat down and grabbed his head, resting his elbows on the table. Not angry anymore, just frustrated and confused.</p><p>"I don't know what to do," he said. "I just… Every day I'm more sure about her lack of interest in me. She's either more indifferent or has even more hurtful comments, like today's. She can't care for me if she just keeps saying things like that" Mary sat beside him and put a hand on his back.</p><p>"Can't that be a natural reaction to thinking you're interested in someone else?" Gilbert scoffed and shook his head. He really couldn't believe that, not anymore. Not after the resentful gaze she had given him not two hours ago. He had to stop making excuses for her behaviour. "Oh, Gilbert… And my guess is you're still interested in her, and not Winnifred? She did look lovely, yesterday"</p><p>"Winnie is nice enough. I can't say I'm not fond of her, or that she isn't nice. But there's no… I don't feel as pulled towards her as I feel with Anne. I can't be with her in good conscience, not unless Anne tells me directly that she is not interested in anything with me nor will be" he sat more upright.</p><p>"So you're saying you would settle for her even when you don't love her?" Mary asked, looking at him. "You don't do that, Gilbert Blythe. You marry only for love. Not to settle, not to forget someone else. <em>Only for love</em>."</p><p>"I might as well not marry, then," he said, sighing, resigned.</p><p>"You're young. You can give time to the issue. There is absolutely no need for you to decide something as big as this at eighteen. You can concentrate on your studies and carry on with your dreams, and time will tell" she said. He shook his head. He wanted his own family. With Anne, if he was being honest. But he could probably develop more feelings towards Winnie, given time and distance from the redhead. At least, he believed so. "For now, even if Anne seems to be unreasonable right now, give her a break. Be kind to her. If you feel like what she wrote has some value, then let her know. Maybe even defend her: she's probably going to get in a lot of trouble after the meeting the school counsellors are having in the morning and, as horrible as it is for me to say this, in this town it is more likely they're going to listen to you than to her". He rested his head on her shoulder.</p><p>"I could do that"</p><p>"It's no different from what you have done for her all these years, you know?" Mary commented as she caressed his head affectionately. He sighed again. That much was true.</p><p>So that's exactly what Gilbert did the next afternoon when Moody commented that it was good she had been fired from the newspaper. And he did so in front of the whole class, even if she wasn't there to hear him (probably she would have defended herself, then), showing her own words to do so. Because that was what was right. The others looked at him, agreeing with what he said, but curious looks as to the change in the deep rivalry they had sustained the past week. When she came in, he couldn't help but smile at her fondly. He did love her. After Diana, who probably would also go to the end of the world with her, he was the first to support her demonstration idea.</p><p>They all went to her house to work on the boards, full support from both Matthew and Marilla, who took them refreshments at some point in the afternoon. It took a while to agree on the message, but she was open to hearing everyone's ideas and the final one was decided with a vote, as all things in the newspaper should be. Miss Stacy had guided them, barely participating as she saw how her pupils were extending their wings.</p><p>"Big day tomorrow" was the only thing he said to her before leaving. Not commenting on the paint on her cheek as he would have done, the situation had been different. Not extending his goodbye unnecessarily, lingering to have a cup of tea.</p><p>The next morning Gilbert was the first to arrive. He was so excited to help her with her endeavour he almost hadn't slept during the night and left the house waking way before the hour they had agreed with the Cuthberts. They arrived with Anne, Bash and Mary, as originally planned, some minutes later. When the others weren't as early as them, Anne began to worry and he tried to appease her.</p><p>"Have faith" he told her. Gilbert wasn't nervous: he knew everyone would arrive. And everyone's arrived indeed, except Diana. Even Prissy Andrews. She directed the crowd like she always did, with passion and energy, and he felt so proud to know her as much as he did. He supported as well as he could. Everything went just according to plan and, before the student group dispersed, Miss Stacy invited them to her house for some refreshments.</p><p>It was a lively, warm meeting. All the classmates felt even more united after today. It was one of the first gatherings where the class as a whole felt more comfortable as adults and not just children waiting to be picked up. Diana was the only one missing since the morning, but Anne had given no excuses as to the reason. Ruby was in a corner speaking with Moody. They were increasingly drawn to each other and Gilbert was happy for them: he thought they could work out together and it took Ruby off of him. He spoke for a while with Charlie who, despite making an effort to support the newspaper and the whole endeavour, had realized Anne's way of looking at things was beyond what he felt comfortable with. Gilbert didn't comment, as her thoughts and passion had attracted him as much as her looks from the day he had met her.</p><p>Charlie kept on talking about how he was deciding to stay at his parent's farm instead of going to Queens, but Gilbert was no longer paying much attention: Anne was across the room and the warm lights made her look as beautiful as ever. He wanted to try and talk with her, maybe she was more open to having a conversation. She was pouring herself some punch.</p><p>A while later she disappeared, nowhere to be found. Gilbert quietly went outside, trying to get as little attention as possible, and saw her sitting on the porch, gazing at the moon. A different house, maybe, but a place that was familiar to them: sitting on the steps in the middle of the night. He greeted her before joining her, as to not alarm her and let her know his presence.</p><p>"You sure pulled that off," he said, sitting close to her, boyish grin in his face.</p><p>"<em>We</em> did" she corrected him. He liked the sound of we, when she said it referring to her and him. "What in the world did you say to our class to make them change their minds about me?" she asked, looking straight at him. He looked at her as well and just told her the truth. She always made everything better. They continued talking for a moment. He felt better, now that she was speaking at him like she used to do. Not discussing or debating everything, not for the sake of the fight, but just like they did when everything felt right.</p><p>"Who knew, we'd make such a good <em>t-e-a-m</em>?" he ventured to ask, trying to gauge a bit more how she felt about the whole we thing. Because they were a great team, as far as he was concerned. She looked at him, half a smile that turned into a look of longing. He felt that longing as well and unconsciously moved his arm, just not to have it between them. To take off one barrier, close some distance, as she looked at him. At his lips? For a fraction of a second, he thought he could try to kiss her now and she would actually be receptive. Not afraid. He made to move just an inch closer. Everything was so quiet, the sound of the party inside seemed so distant and the crickets were the only music in the night. The same energy that pulled him to her all the time but so magnified. The same pull he felt when they danced at the practice. Less flirtatious. More… definitive. All the wait could be over tonight, he felt it.</p><p>And then she spoke forcibly and he felt again as if everything was getting crushed.</p><p>"Winifred… is a lucky gal," she said. He wasn't sure, but she had that look that she made when she was trying hard to concentrate on her words. Gilbert had seen it before, many times, and he felt himself stiffen from the discomfort, pulling away. "Thank you, for today and everything" and it sounded more like a goodbye than like anything else. "I should get back" she concluded, and stood, getting inside the house very quickly. He couldn't bring himself to go back, and after a while, he decided to just go home. He had never felt so frustrated with everything. For a split second, he had thought this was the moment. It was the first time he dared believe it. And she had talked about Winifred.</p><p>When he arrived, Mary had already retreated: this week had proved to be a hard one and they were considering going to Dr. Ward's again to see what else they could do about the muscle spasms and pains that remained after months. The willow bark seemed to help the most of all the concoctions, but they needed something more permanent than that. Bash looked at his conflicted face and asked him what had gone wrong after the hope and determination he had felt in the morning. Gilbert sighed and tried to dismiss it, but as his brother was having none of it (he hadn't sported this expression in many months) he decided on the best thing he could think of for not speaking about his frustrations, having Bash company and maybe even quieting his incessant mind.</p><p>Walking to the liquor cabinet, he selected an old bottle and drank in silence with Bash, who didn't question him and shared a drink or two. He felt so frustrated with everything he only wanted to fog his mind and <em>not think anymore.</em> He didn't want to think of Winifred. Of Anne. Of his stupid conservative and racist town. Of the newspaper. Above all, he only wanted to forget Anne, but at the same time remember every single freckle she had.</p><p>When he woke up the next morning, he knew two things: he was certainly not going to school with the hangover he had. And, just as it proved impossible to forget about Anne when he tried in the Caribbean, trying in Avonlea was a futile experiment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. August</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the burning of the schoolhouse and the sudden change in the board of directors (he knew Anne was as proud to have Marilla in there as he was) the class routine remained the same, just changing its location. Miss Stacy offered her house and refreshments every morning and helped them study as much as she could for the final weeks before the exams. In the afternoons, the guys helped with the reconstruction of the schoolhouse, now bigger and more solid. Sometimes the girls brought something to eat.</p><p>Anne never showed up.</p><p>Gilbert tried to sit close to Anne whenever he could. They weren't in an open confrontation, not anymore. It was just a sad indifference, mingled with a casual and empty conversation, but she seemed to be uncomfortable near him, especially after the whole group questioned him regarding Winifred. Mary had been right: everyone had seen them and assumed they were a serious couple. The Cuthberts had invited them for lunch a couple of times since, and he could feel the questioning look from Marilla and Matthew. Not judgemental, but curious about what had changed. Anne didn't talk to him in any of these visits, nor when she went to see Mary and little Delly.</p><p>The blonde girl had insisted on writing him and, not seeing any harm in it, he responded. He had said to her father on the fair that he wasn't interested, hadn't he? Winifred was very attentive in her letters, and he saw some sliver of possibility in a relationship with her. Anne still wasn't speaking and, seeing how things were doing, by this point he firmly thought he would only see her very occasionally after the exams, if they happened to cross when he visited the Cuthberts or she visited Mary and Bash.</p><p>After all, Gilbert wasn't going to Queens any longer: he had exchanged some correspondence with Miss Stacy's friend and had decided to go to the University of Toronto. The medical research program called him more than anything else. He didn't want to be a country doctor and he was so sure that the answer lay in nature itself, he was interested in focusing his attention on that subject. Medical research was the means to get to that answer. Mary had been right: he should focus mainly on his studies and time would tell.</p><p>Very soon it was the eve before the exam. He was to go to Charlottetown, where the regional exams were held for U of T. It didn´t represent any change at all, since he was going there anyway to present the exam for the medical program for Queens. Winnie had insisted he went for dinner in many of her letters, so he had finally acquiesced. The last day, before they left Miss Stacy's house, he managed to shamelessly borrow Anne's pen: he fully believed it would bring him good luck. And he knew for a fact she had the other one at home, the one he had gifted her and she only used for special things. He was so sure the exams were a special thing for her, she wasn't even going to consider using the pen he had borrowed. The one that spilled.</p><p>After all the studying Gilbert didn't find the exams as hard as he thought he would. When the examiner told them the rules and gave the signal to begin, he felt a wave of dread. His future was on the table, quite literally. However, reading the questions calmed him. <em>This</em>, Miss Stacy had explained just the week before. <em>That</em>, he had learnt by heart after Moody couldn't understand it and he had explained it to him like ten times. <em>This here</em>, Anne had explained to him, back when she still talked to him. He wrote quickly, efficiently, feeling Anne's energy, words and passion through her pen. And everything was over before he could even realize.</p><p>It was so early when he finished he decided to take a walk around town and try to clear his thoughts of all the information he had crammed over the past few weeks. Out of habit, he ended up in front of the pension he had lived at for a couple of months when he worked at the docks, and then went to the port. Nothing seemed to have changed in the past three years. It was as comforting as disturbing: he no longer felt like the newly orphaned fifteen-year-old that had decided to travel around the world, but his worries remained the same. His place in this life, his longing for a family, his will to help people. And Anne.</p><p>Gilbert walked back to the most affluent parts of the city, feeling now like a stranger, out of place. He wasn't used to this: he might not want to be a country doctor, but he was a countryman at heart. He liked simple, hearty, soulful things. Full of meaning, but minimalist at the same time. Like the cliff he liked to walk to back in Avonlea. Like the trail of the forest. Like skating on the ice after a fresh snowfall. <em>That's</em> why he liked Green Gables so much: the house was clean, airy, light, but you could feel the love in every detail. There was no need for frivolities as the most important things were cared for.</p><p>When he arrived at Rose's manor, he could see from the gate that this was a different story. When he entered, every wall covering seemed to shout at him some latest fashion. Winnie received him with a hug, as did their parents, and they enjoyed a formal lunch in a dining room big enough to fit his whole class. Silver utensils, fine china, all the things he knew existed but never cared for.</p><p>And then the evening turned surreal.</p><p>There he was, in a room full of velvet, chinoiserie and fine crystal, pretending to smoke a cigar he hated, drinking some of the finest brandy he had ever tasted (that he could appreciate). Sitting next to Winnie's father. Who seemed to be playing magic tricks.</p><p><em>Here you have it!</em> he seemed to say as if extending a silver platter and taking the cover off. <em>Did you want a nice, latest-fashion flat in the most desirable arrondissement in Paris? Here's one for you! Did you ever want to study at the Sorbonne? Entrance fees, tuitions and contacts are included in the deal! Anything else you want? Here you have it! All for marrying my daughter with my full consent!</em></p><p>He couldn't even answer. It was dizzying. He just offered his snifter for a cheer. What could he say? Everything he had ever wanted seemed to be laid out in front of him. Except for the girl, maybe. Maybe he could be with Winnie. She was lovely indeed. They would have a bright, bright future. Even he could see that. Her family accepted the LaCroix with no judgement. <em>Everything could actually turn out right.</em></p><p>If only he were sure Anne didn't return his feelings.</p><p>On the train back to Avonlea, Gilbert decided to try, for real this time. No more half-truths. No more subtlety. He was going to expose his case to her. Point by point. As he should have done weeks, if not months ago. He was done with this agony and now he had an actual proposal to propose to escape from it. So as soon as the train arrived at Bright River he took off to the ruins, where the group had said they would meet after the exams.</p><p>There were a bonfire and a great deal of laughter. Anne was standing on some sort of platform, from where she was declaiming something about pirates as she danced. Had he ever seen anything, human or not, as beautiful as she when she moved, free as always, not a care in the world? She was a sight to behold. He just stood there, admiring her, until he couldn't hold it any longer.</p><p>"May I speak with you, please?" he pleaded with her, wishing for her not to ignore him, not to shun him away, not to say anything hurtful. <em>Just this one last time, Anne. Please.</em> He helped her get down and she gave the bottle she had on the hand to Tillie, who was close.</p><p>They went to the fire, where she sat on one of the logs and heard him ramble and explain everything that had transpired that day. He didn't hold any details, there was no point at all in doing so. He wanted her to have all the information he could give her, so she could… decide whatever she felt best with. Be that with him. Or not. She listened, confused, paying attention to every word but somehow not following him.</p><p>"I don't know what to do," he concluded, looking at her and stopping his pacing. She started enumerating every single thing, just as Mr. Rose had done in the afternoon. The Sorbonne. His distaste to be a country doctor (in that, she knew him better than Mr. Rose). Winifred. Even her supportive parents. He thought her voice broke at some point, but he didn't risk believe. Gilbert went to sit as close to her as he dared when she asked what was holding him back. As if she couldn't possibly know. Was she blind? Had he been so… <em>vague</em> with his intentions? Was he really invisible to her? Had she truly never had even a hint of his feelings for her? He looked at her with every bit of his soul.</p><p>"Just… one thing" he finally answered, and saw her face of sudden understanding. As if the final piece of the jigsaw was falling into place and suddenly the whole picture made sense. And apparently, it made a <em>spooky</em> sense, by the look of terror in her face.</p><p>"I-I don't know what to say" she stammered, and then started and started sentences as he saw her, concern in his eyebrows, trying to understand if there was anything under all this rambling that could be associated with any interest towards him. Any hope. <em>He would take anything.</em> And she didn't have anything to say. <em>Nothing</em>.</p><p>Then the rest of the girls came, claiming for her to make one of her rituals (what rituals?) and they effectively took her from him. Still stunned. Still confused. But with nothing for him. Gilbert sighed and stood slowly, feeling how having an answer somehow felt even worse than pondering with all the possibilities, and looked at her. She was still watching him even when the girls were positioning her in front of the fire.</p><p>"I will be off, then" he managed to say to her, in a low, strained voice. The knot in his throat didn't allow him to speak any louder as he felt how something was breaking inside. "Good night" and he was off. He turned back a couple of meters later, just to see. Maybe she would turn? Maybe there was any hope? When she didn't, he just continued his way home. When he arrived, everyone was asleep. He went directly to bed, but couldn't manage to sleep at all and saw the sky slowly clear as the hours passed.</p><hr/><p>"Gilbert. Gilbert!" Mary tried to stop him. "You were telling just now that Anne was declaiming about pirates, right?"</p><p>"That's correct. But then…"</p><p>"Hear me out on this, please?" Mary said, not allowing him to speak. Bash was sitting next to her, looking at Gilbert as if he could not believe how idiot he was. Gilbert was pacing, as always. He was telling them about last night, about Mr. Rose's proposal and how it was almost everything he ever wanted. How he thought there was a chance for him to be happy in that arrangement. How he had gone to the ruins to ask Anne, to tell her everything, to see if there was some chance… any chance… how her face had shown confusion and dread after the realization that indeed, he had feelings for her that were worth much more than any of his other dreams. Of course, he hadn't slept even two hours that night and he was shaky from the coffee.</p><p>"Right" Gilbert nodded. This was so beyond repair that he could hear anything. He sat across from them, anxious.</p><p>"So. Anne was declaiming about <em>pirates</em>. In a celebration after exams. In the ruins, that happens just to be the place where you've told us Moody and Charlie go to <em>drink</em>. You've even gone with them a couple of times. She gave a <em>bottle</em> to one of them when she came down from wherever. The girls took her for some kind of ritual before she could give you a coherent answer. Don't you see any pattern?" Mary asked him, looking seriously at him like she couldn't believe his daftness. Bash as well. He couldn't grasp it. <em>Honest</em>. He wanted to, but he couldn't.</p><p>"She was drunk, Blythe!" Bash finally exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious answer. Gilbert looked at him, stunned. "I will spell it for you: she probably had no idea about your feelings for her. I have no idea why if all of Avonlea knows. Probably she's just confused. So yes, maybe she doesn't have feelings for you. <em>Maybe she does.</em> For all we know, she can be waking up, world's worst hangover, and not remember a thing about any of this. She's been known to have blackouts before" Mary nodded, and then talked:</p><p>"Gilbert. You've wanted to be with Anne since you were fifteen. Any of the times you imagined any of this, you telling her about how you feel, was she drunk? Was she pressured to give you an answer? Was the conversation you had yesterday the one you wanted to have with her? Show her you have the option of this luxurious, dreamy, seemingly perfect life and then the option of her, without any frills, and having <em>her</em> decide? The girl might be stronger now, but she's not the epitome of self-esteem. <em>Even</em> if she loved you, which we have no idea if she does, she would have told you to go to Winifred. There is no other way to it. And it's not even fair to Winnie: how are you going to marry in good conscience if you're in love with Anne?"</p><p>Gilbert looked at the two of them, who were giving him the most serious looks he remembered in all of his time knowing them. Well, apart from the time Elijah took off, but this time the looks were directed at him. He furrowed his brow, thinking about last night. How she danced. How she yelled… about pirates and rum. How she almost lost her equilibrium as she came down from where she had been standing, bottle in hand, and he'd had to steady her, holding her hand. <em>Warm, soft hand.</em> The confused look on her face as he paced and explained. Her rambling, her stammering. The girls taking her.</p><p>The ultimatum he had given her, without even realizing. Because looking at it in retrospect, there was no other way to call it but an ultimatum.</p><p>Mary was right: this was <em>not</em> how he had wanted to tell her he loved her. He may not have had anything planned, but certainly, this <em>wasn't</em> how he would have ever envisioned any of this. And it was definitely not fair with Winnie.</p><p>"I have to make this right," he said. "I need to go to Charlottetown, now. Start by making that right and then I can talk with Anne. If she honestly doesn't want me… then I can be alone. I may manage to catch the midday train" he got up and went to the door, but felt Bash's hand grabbing him from behind.</p><p>"Wear a shirt, Blythe. If you're going to break a girl's heart, at least be presentable" Bash said. He looked down and realized he was still in his undershirt. Mary shook her head.</p><p>"So, I'm off. Could you…" he sighed after running upstairs to put on the first clean and ironed shirt he could find and a vest. "I know this is far fetched. But in the <em>remote</em> case Anne comes here, which I doubt, could you tell her I went to Charlottetown but need to speak with her? Just don't give any details, please? I would prefer accounting for this whole mess myself when I come back."</p><p>"We won't even be around the house, Blythe. Remember? Harvest?" said Bash, and Gilbert nodded. Harvest alright. He had forgotten about it.</p><p>Never had the train moved so slow as that day. Last night he had been so deep in his thoughts that the ride had seemed fleetingly fast. Today, he was anxious: not only about speaking with Winifred and letting her know this… <em>thing</em> between them could no longer continue, but also about looking for Anne later and speaking frankly with her.</p><hr/><p>The conversation with Winifred might have been just one of the most difficult ones Gilbert had had in his life. Not only for telling her things that he knew were breaking her heart. He was acutely aware he was doing so. She cared more deeply for him than he could ever have imagined before. And it made him feel heavy with compassion as he knew what it was like to feel rejected by someone you dearly loved, but also with regret for allowing this to go this far. But what she was asking of him… He supposed he could wait to tell many people about his lack of engagement. Most people, really. Except one.</p><p>He absolutely needed to speak with Anne today. It was imperative. Last night… it should never have happened and he felt shame and regret in how he had managed it. And he definitely needed to make it right before there was no form of correcting the course. How could he reconcile both things? After the dreadful conversation they had the night before, he needed to make things clear with her. To speak with her as she deserved. And he still didn't know how she was going to react. There was a sliver of chance, but just that. If he left time go on…</p><p>"Winnie. Can… I do want to respect your wish. But please, understand me. I won't tell anyone in town of this, but let me just…"</p><p>"You want to speak with her today? Must you be so cruel? Is there really any need for you to rub everything in my face?" he closed his eyes. He honestly had no idea how to make it better. How to... explain the urgency he felt "Just… do as you must, Gilbert. You already broke my heart and there is no need to put in more pain. Only please, please let me have whatever dignity I have left" she looked at him, serious, reproachful, tearful eyes. He hugged her and she cried in his chest for just a second before she stood up quickly.</p><p>"Oh, Winnie… I so hate looking at you like this. It was never my intention to cause you any pain" he said honestly, standing and going next to her. "I feel your sorrow and it pains me"</p><p>"Gilbert… leave me now, please. Please. Give me two weeks. If you must speak with her, I don't want to know. You… I'm sure you can understand. Simply… keep whatever between yourselves. <em>Don't</em> embarrass me further" she said without looking at him. He felt great sorrow, leaving her like that. But there was no other way: he tried to give her a comforting caress and she just got stiff and took a step to get away from him.</p><p>"Goodbye, Winnie," he said, gently, before leaving her.</p><p>Gilbert exited the house hastily, grateful for not seeing her parents on the way out. He was not sure if he could face them at that moment. Feeling more unsteady than he cared to admit, he decided to go for a walk to appease his nerves. It took him on the same route he had done the day before, only in a reverse way. From the opulent neighbourhoods to the popular docks and pensions of the port.</p><p>This time, only, it made more sense to him. Last time, he felt as if he was leaving behind his past, everything that represented him and that had formed him. He was leaving the comfort he had felt working and the simple life he enjoyed, trading it for the luxury and the easiness that was being offered to him. Today, he was returning to what felt most true in his heart and he didn't feel discomfort, but only confidence.</p><p>Anne may not love him. She might need more time or maybe, she was truly out of what he could dream for himself. Gilbert didn't know. But what he did understand now was that he was not going to replace her with no one. She made him feel complete, yes, as well as amazed at her kindness, wit and imagination. She inspired him to grow and be a better person, achieve all and every one of his goals. Only for her, he had allowed himself to feel again, to let someone into his heart, after his father's death. But doubted he would ever meet someone with such qualities, and for that, he was sure now he was capable of having a full, even if solitary life.</p><p>After some time contemplating the movement of the port, he decided to head back. He had lost track of time and only realized how late it had become when he got to the train station to find that the last train was gone. Being still August, the days were long and the sunlight seemed to drag forever.</p><p>He cursed, as he had fully intended to speak with Anne that day and there was no way of even getting word to Bash and Mary so they wouldn't worry. Paying his ticket for the first train the next morning, he went to find a pub to get a drink and a simple meal, and a pension to spend the night.</p><hr/><p>It was still fairly early in the morning when the train arrived in Avonlea. He got off the train quickly and went looking for his horse, which was in the pension next to the train station. He paid what was due, as the day before he hadn't intended to let him there overnight, and apologized to the owner, who didn't seem to mind one bit. Emergencies happened.</p><p>He took off quickly, finally in charge of the pace. The night had been another sleepless one: he had not been able to sleep, his mind worried about everything that had transpired in the past couple of days. He could not let go of thinking of Anne. Had she gone to his house? It was a remote possibility, he did know that. But had she? Had she thought about any of what had happened on the bonfire?</p><p>Going quickly, Gilbert considered for a few seconds if he should go to his house to change, as he neared the intersection that defined whether he continued to Green Gables and the Barry's Estate, or if he turned right towards his farm. A fresh shirt, wash his face yet again? He had washed it plenty over the night, every time he decided he was done with crying and worrying, and before commencing the cycle all over again. He decided to go on, even if his shirt didn't look fresh. Even if he had bags under his eyes. If anything good came out of this, it would be regardless of what he was wearing or how he was looking.</p><p>He slowed down as he saw the farm in the distance. His horse blew noisily, tired after the rhythm Gilbert had made him sustain in his worry and anxiousness. Now, he was almost there and the only way was forward. He got down as he arrived at the gate, Jerry nowhere to be seen. Opening the door, he crossed into Green Gables slowly, feeling as if his heart was just about to come out of his chest. The place as familiar as it was daunting. He tied the horse to the pole as he had done countless times and walked slowly toward the house door, more scared than he'd been in his life.</p><p>Gilbert stopped when he was at the door, looking through the lite, trying to breathe deeply to gather what courage he could. Anne was there, apparently speaking alone, setting the table in a careless manner he had never seen in her before. She was dressed, but her hair was just as when she had slept at his place on Christmas when it was almost out of the braid. Another first, for he was definitely not counting that morning. He could not hear what she was saying. Sighing, he braced himself and knocked. It was better to get done with this.</p><p>For better or worse.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Still August</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello there!</p><p>Here we come to an end. For now? I hope that you have enjoyed this perspective as much as I enjoyed writing it. </p><p>I'm terrible with notes and even more with end-of-story notes. But I really wanted to show my appreciation for all of you following along. Thank you so much for all the kind reviews, they mean the world.</p><p>On an unrelated note, I'm working in a completely different story, a collab with Hikari89! Hopefully to be posted soon, when it's all done and finished... That way we won't keep you hanging. It's different. It's very AU. Very... actual in its own way. We think you'll love it. We know we do. And we really hope to see you there!</p><p>Keep safe, everyone :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Still August</strong>
</p><p>Anne looked up and, as their eyes met, the cutlery she was still holding fell to the floor as the colour drained from her face. Marilla appeared from a corner, looked at her, and then to the door, in the direction she was looking. Gilbert moved his hand nervously, as if to say hi, and the older woman went towards the door.</p><p>"Good morning, Gilbert," she said as she opened the door, as kind as ever. "Is everything alright? Did something happen? Come in, come in," she motioned, inviting him in.</p><p>"Good morning, Marilla. Everything… everything is fine, thank you. I just… May I speak with Anne, please?" he said, looking at her in the eyes, not moving from the threshold. There must have been something in his expression that changed the way Marilla was looking at him. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and turned to call the redhead who was still frozen in place.</p><p>"Anne, Gilbert is here to see you. Pick that up and then you can go. Do you want to go to speak to the...?"</p><p>"Outside. Outside is fine," Anne cut her, speaking quickly. Marilla nodded, worried. Gilbert relaxed just a tiny bit. The conversation he had come to have was one he preferred to have outside of Marilla and Matthew's earshot.</p><p>"Be back in time for breakfast, you have about twenty minutes. Gilbert, you're welcomed to stay, if you want," Marilla added. Gilbert nodded once, quickly, hoping he would indeed be welcomed to stay, and the senior woman returned to the kitchen with no more words, only shaking her head slightly. Meanwhile, Anne scrambled to pick up what she had dropped, clumsily, fast, and then covered the distance to the door in a second, standing in front of him.</p><p>"Anne, I…" he started, even though he had no idea of what he was saying. Or if he was saying it there, at the threshold. She shook her head quickly, taking off her pinafore, and went out of the house. He just gave her room to pass in her determination. Closing the door behind them, he followed her as she walked towards the forest at a very resolved pace. "Anne!" he called her after a moment, but she didn't seem to hear him and continued walking.</p><p>He jogged a bit until he was by her side and maintained her brisk pace until she arrived at the log where they usually sat to talk, midway between her house and his. Usually near midnight, when he walked her back. It was evident she was not going to get to breakfast in time, unless she decided to go back now. She stopped and looked at him, expectantly. Daring him to speak, to go first. He was opening his mouth when she seemed to think better of it.</p><p>"I'm not confused anymore," she blurted out. Gilbert stared, blinking. Closing his mouth again. What was she on about? Could it… She looked conflicted, maybe as much as he did. "But… I'm too late now, right? You went yesterday to Charlottetown, Matthew told me he saw your horse by the train station, so you must be engaged by…" realizing what was on her mind, he shook his head because he could not trust his voice right now and she stopped talking. He came closer to her. One, two steps. Until he was just in front of her. Probably closer than what was proper. <em>No</em>, he corrected himself, <em>way closer than proper.</em> Anne looked at him in the eyes, with the same look she'd had in the dance practice. The same one she'd had outside of Miss Stacy's house after the demonstration.</p><p>And Gilbert couldn't help it, not any longer. Not after what her words and her eyes implied. He caressed her cheek ever so softly, as he had dreamt on doing so many times. And he kissed her without restraint, impulsively, determined, with the feeling and energy and love of the last three years condensed. She didn't pull away. She actually… returned the kiss. Gilbert felt emboldened and couldn't help but let his instincts take over. A hand on her lower back, bringing her closer. The other one went from her cheek to the nape of her neck, holding her like she was something precious, feeling her hair tangle in between his fingers. Her arms found their way across his neck, pulling him down to her.</p><p>Gilbert ended the kiss slowly, almost not wanting to, but he needed to know. Because it was like the world made sense for the first time since he met her, and he dared only hope this was real and he was not going to wake up delirious in the pension in Charlottetown. He let his forehead rest on hers, his heart about to go out of his chest, his breathing quick. She didn't run. He sighed, bearing himself to ask, but couldn't speak when he felt her mouth on his again, Anne returning his kiss with another, as passionate as his had been, one hand on his hair, pulling him even closer. This time, he was not about to let her go. No. If she had come willingly to him, he was decided to have her by his side forever.</p><p>This… right this moment, what he felt was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. It was not his first kiss, he knew that. Yet it felt like it was, so sensitive were his senses, so perceptive was his body, his mind, his heart. It was one of the first times he felt truly in the moment, conscious of every single thing that was happening. Like time was stopping, but simultaneously speeding. As if it didn't exist anymore.</p><p>Gilbert still held her when the kiss ended, slowly, just some small space between them. He needed to speak but was afraid to let go of her. He hugged her, not like he had so many times before, but losing himself in the embrace, and breathed deeply, as she returned the hug. Inhaling her unmistakably Anne scent that he could still taste. Feeling her against him. Sensing as if something he didn't even know he was carrying was lifted off his shoulders, off his chest. Resting his cheek on the top of her head. Taking some air, as if he was breathing for the first time, because it felt that way. Then Anne spoke against his shirt, not letting go of him either, holding him tighter than she ever had before.</p><p>"So you're not…"</p><p>"I could never be, Anne" he cut her, his tone raw, as honest as it could get because he could not bear the thought of him being engaged to anyone different than her. "Not if it's not to you."</p><p>"But the Sorbonne, your dreams…" she countered, stubborn as she was.</p><p>"They're not dreams if you're not in them" he insisted, his voice calm and earnest. "I only want you. The rest can come later, with you by my side," he said frankly, feeling her relax slightly at last. They stayed like that, just holding each other, in silence. Feeling their breaths synchronize, little by little, until they seemed only one. Neither let go of the other or even relented in the force of the embrace.</p><p>"But… I don't understand. You… at the fair…" she said a while later. Gilbert closed his eyes.</p><p>"I was a fool," he answered. "Never intended to…" but he didn't know how to explain how naive he had been. He sighed and separated just enough so he could see her in the eyes. "It was all a misunderstanding and I have no defence for myself. But it always has been you, Anne-girl. It'll always be." She frowned, confused. He sighed again and reluctantly let go of her, but held her hand, softly. "Come," he said and brought her to the log. He briefly thought about Marilla but decided she would probably understand the tardiness for breakfast. What was the best way of explaining everything that had transpired in the last few years? Where to begin? "I know I have much explaining to do, especially after the past few weeks," he said, after a moment. "And, knowing you, you probably have a thousand questions," he added, looking at her. She blushed, confirming his suspicions. "So… ask me. I will answer truthfully," he concluded.</p><p>"Cole said you had a crush on me. When we hopped the freight," she said, more as an affirmation than a question. Gilbert couldn't understand her thought process or how that was the first thing to come to her attention, but it was a starting point as good as any.</p><p>"Cole was right. I… I'm not sure if I would call it only a crush, then. But by then I already had a definite interest in you, and I'd had it for years, I think," he explained.</p><p>"Years?"</p><p>"Ever since you first came and you would just ignore me," he had promised to be honest, so he would be. Anne looked at him, disbelieving. "At first I didn't know what to call it. I remember talking to dad about you," he chuckled at the memory. "How I couldn't seem to leave you alone. How I <em>needed</em> you to notice me. And you just kept ignoring me and… Never mind, it isn't important anymore. It was a crush, back when I was fifteen. Suffice it to say, it has always been you."</p><p>"What is it now, if not a crush?" she asked, almost afraid. As if he was somehow going to leave after what they just shared a few minutes before.</p><p>"Love, Anne. It is love," he said, looking at her in the eyes, squeezing her hand.</p><p>"An undeniable force that hits between the eyes and doesn't let up," she whispered. Gilbert looked at her. He could not have said it better himself. "That's… what Aunt Jo said, yesterday. About love"</p><p>"It sure feels like she knows her thing," he said, chuckling.</p><p>"Does it feel that way? To you?" she asked, looking at him. He sighed.</p><p>"Not only, but yes. That's been the constant, absolutely. It has… evolved. Grown. It's more complex, now. But it is a definite force," he answered. She laughed and he looked at her, concerned. Had he said something…? "And it doesn't let up, I can assure you of that."</p><p>"I guess a lifetime of experience does give you insight about love and romance," she finally said. "I couldn't understand her, at first, when I went to speak with her yesterday. It sure has not been a force from the beginning, for me," she explained, and he felt his heart sink a little. But hadn't she… just kissed him and held him just as he had done, only minutes before? "Oh, don't get me wrong, Gil…" she said, as she looked at his expression. "I do love you. It's just different for me. It has been…" she seemed to be looking for words, but he didn't mind because he felt his chest expanding, his heart beating fast, awe at how everything was unfolding. He had expected that, with much luck, maybe she would like him. Find something attractive enough in him to at least be curious and be with him and go from there. But love? That was unthinkable. "It has been this slow, slow burn. I didn't even realize when it happened, you know? I can't say like you just did when it began and how. It has just grown from… finding you completely annoying for making fun of my hair, to watching a veil being taken off at that fateful dance practice, to feeling like my heart would break this past night, when the gravity of the bonfire dawned on me. I told you to go marry…"</p><p>"I told you. I'm not marrying no one if it's not you." He wanted that to be clear. He saw her right hand move to pinch her left wrist, an unconscious move of hers he knew by then. "Darling, you are not dreaming. If anyone is, it's me. Don't hurt yourself in my account," he said, taking the offending hand and giving it a soft kiss. Anne looked at him, like she couldn't quite believe what was happening, biting her lips as she thought, looking at their hands. He was still holding hers, and he caressed her fingers with his. How he wanted to kiss her again, but he knew he had to show some restraint. He had dreamt so much of this moment, yet now that he was living it, it seemed like all the words had left his mind. He hadn't actually said anything he had come to say, just giving himself to his impulses and answering Anne's dear questions. He took some air.</p><p>"Anne, sweetheart… I know this all must seem so sudden, so unplanned, so… reckless and impulsive," he said at last. Because from her perspective, how else could it seem? He must seem a madman. She didn't say anything, just looking at him. "I… first, I want to apologize" that had been one of the main motives of this escapade, right?</p><p>"Apologize? Gil…"</p><p>"Please. Hear me out, Anne-girl" he pleaded, and she nodded. "I'm not trying to engage in one of our endless apologies, here. This was all my doing, and as such I want to take full-on responsibility. It was not fair what I did, the other night by the bonfire. I should have never put you in that position, especially when I knew where my heart was. You did not deserve that, and I can't explain how sorry I am. For anything I ever imagined, telling you about my love for you, to see if it could ever be reciprocal… it should have never gone that way, and I apologize for that." She stayed silent, looking at him. He had never seen her so quiet. "I don't even know how you arrived home that night, and I'm regretful for having left you there, when you were clearly not in your five senses," he said, earnest, to which she turned red.</p><p>"I walked with Diana…" he nodded, but still felt guilty of leaving her there like that. "I… it was confusing, Gilbert, I'll be honest. But now… Maybe it was better that way? To really feel my heart when I thought I had lost you?" She said and he shook his head.</p><p>"I'm never leaving you, Anne, and I hate that this has set that precedent. You should have never felt that and it shouldn't be in your mind. For as long as you want me, I will be here, as I have told you so many times before. Anyway…" he sighed, looking at their hands. Together. "There are many, many things I wish I could discuss with you now. I have waited for so long to do so, and I promise we will talk about them in the coming days. However," he added, when he saw Anne's impending response, "I know for a fact Marilla is waiting for you, and I don't want to be the cause of any disagreement."</p><p>"You would never be. She loves you too much," she said. He smiled a bit, remembering his past conversations with her. "You're staying for breakfast anyway, right?"</p><p>"If you would have me, of course" he smiled. Anne giggled. "Before we go, Anne… I must ask you only one favour. It doesn't feel right to ask, after all this… but I must do so anyway."</p><p>"Of course," she said, looking worried. "What is it?"</p><p>"When I went to Charlottetown yesterday, it was never with the intention to propose to Winifred. The goal was the opposite: I foolishly let a misunderstanding get completely out of hand, leading her on with false hopes. She is… understandably, feeling poorly about the whole endeavour and is planning to travel out of the country. I don't blame her. But she only asked one favour from me, and it is the one I must ask you in turn. Do you think we could keep… this between us for two weeks? It is only the time she asked" he explained, looking at her, trying to gage from her reaction. Something clouded her eyes for a split of a second, but then she smiled softly, sadly.</p><p>"I can imagine how she is feeling," she said at last, looking away. "To believe she had your love, only to lose it… I can relate to her better than you can imagine, now, and if us keeping to ourselves is something that is going to appease her heart, I can certainly do so. So… two weeks?" he smiled sadly, wishing only that she couldn't relate to Winifred's feelings as that meant he had also caused her harm.</p><p>"Two weeks," he confirmed.</p><p>"Of only the two of us," he nodded. "It actually doesn't sound half bad, what with everything that will happen once we are open. Well, start thinking, Gilbert Blythe, because you have to make up a believable excuse for Marilla now," she said as she stood up, tugging on his hand to help him get up. He laughed merrily, feeling yet another weight be lifted from his shoulders.</p><p>She was to start walking back to Green Gables, but he brought her yet again close to him, kissing her softly, slowly, savouring every inch of her lips with the calm of knowing that this was real. This was happening. She returned her kiss as sweetly as he started it, but it slowly morphed into a deep, craving, urgent kiss which seemed to transmit not the peace they both felt now but the anxiety that had led to it. He felt one of her hands in the back of his head, grabbing his hair, bringing him forward, while the other went to his back, pushing him even closer to her. He fought with all his might the desire he had to explore her as well, keeping his hands on a tight embrace in her back. He could not trust himself, not now. When he realized what Anne was doing, he tried as best as he could to end the kiss before it got even more out of hand. He managed to put some space between them, hands in her shoulders to keep her at a manageable distance, breathing heavily, his forehead against hers. Her scent everywhere.</p><p>"Anne, dear…" he tried to speak, but his voice was raspy, hoarse. She had a flippant smile that almost got him kissing her again, so he closed his eyes, trying to get his bearings and breathe slowly. He opened them again after a few seconds. She was still looking expectantly at him. "Please, believe me when I say that it's not that I don't want to… but just that I don't trust myself right now, and I do believe we should try to…"</p><p>"Keep this within propriety limits?" she tried to fill the gap when he trailed off, to which he laughed, and took his hands off her shoulders. He offered one and they started walking.</p><p>"No, Anne. I don't believe in that, I only pay attention to propriety for your sake," he said finally. "I think we shouldn't grab more than what we can handle and process at one time. I know how I feel, I know what I want, but then again this has been on my mind for the past three years and a half. I am more than happy to wait for you in every aspect and to accompany you in whatever you wish to explore. Explain whatever you don't understand. Just…slow and steady," he continued and saw her turning red as a beet. She stayed silent, as if ashamed, and he nudged her playfully with his hip. "Carrots, there's nothing to be embarrassed about" she finally looked at him, just as he had intended with the use of a nickname that was dear to his heart.</p><p>"I don't know what overtook me just now," she mumbled, and he laughed heartily.</p><p>"The same thing that took me, I guess. We're on the same boat here, sweetheart, it's not like I wasn't participating," he winked at her and she laughed, finally. They walked in silence for a few minutes, still hand in hand. "Look, if we want this to work… and believe me when I say there's nothing I want more in this world, we must be able to communicate," he said earnestly. She nodded. "Not ignoring. Not going away. I can handle you yelling at me, but please, no more ignoring," he said looking pointedly at her, and she nodded slowly. They were approaching the treeline.</p><p>"Gil, wait," she said, stopping short. He looked at her and she tried to arrange his hair. "There. Now, do you have your excuse?"</p><p>"I'm pretty sure I can invent something about Delly," he answered merrily, and they continued their walk, the usual distance between them, ready to begin a new chapter in their life.</p>
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